The Lives of the Quidditch Rich and Famous
by Mayqueen
Summary: This is a post Hogwarts fic, Voldemort is dead and Harry is a playboy. But then why is his scar hurting? Who is the new leader of the neo-death eaters? Will Harry be able to stop them before time runs out? read to find out. Chapter 21 up.
1. Default Chapter

THE LIVES OF THE QUIDDITCH RICH AND FAMOUS   
  
CHAPTER 1   
  
"Aaaand Potter." The words hung in the air of the stadium as the last of the England team flew up to join the rest. It was the finals. Bulgaria versus England. More importantly it was the clash of the Titans. For the first time in Quidditch history Viktor Krum would be playing against Harry Potter. Who would emerge victorious? Only time would tell. Millions of eyes were trained on the two teams as they prepared for the battle. The whistle blew and the game begun.   
  
Lee Jordan, seated in the top box geared himself for what he was quite sure was going to be a long, long game. It was the first time in decades that England had made it to the finals, and the hopes of millions centered on the seeker - Harry Potter. Not an unfounded hope either. Harry was a natural. He hadn't lost a match since his dementor crisis in his third year. But Krum was older and more experienced, and even Lee with all his implicit trust in Harry couldn't help but feel a little insecure.   
  
As the balls were released and the referee Aidan Lynch shot into the air, Lee pointed at his throat and muttered sonorous. It was time for action. The quaffle was tossed from Davis to Carlson, back to Davis and then was intercepted by the Bulgarian chaser Turganev. The Bulgarian chasers were fast, but they were by no means as fast as the English. Before they were anywhere near the goals, the quaffle was reclaimed and the game was in full flow.   
  
Harry hovered a few meters above the other players, his eyes focused on the game below him, darting to and fro for the sight of the snitch. He also kept a sharp eye on his opponent, Viktor Krum. He had known Krum for almost 8 years, and though off the pitch they were good friends, on it they were bitter rivals. He thought he saw a glint of gold, but whipping his head around it was just the toss of a Veela's hair. He returned to intently surveying the pitch.   
  
The game was fast and brutal. The Beaters on both sides were whacking the Bludgers with all their might, indiscriminately smashing it at the other players. Almost half an hour had passed, and it spoke well for the skill of both teams that neither side had scored a single goal yet. Harry saw a bludger hurtle towards him and dodged with his customary grace. He knew that "Take out the seeker" was the Beaters motto, and with the help of the Weasely brothers he had honed his talents of diversion. He felt a sudden nostalgia. He wished Fred and George were on the field with him. He had tried to persuade them to play for England as he had, but stubborn iconoclasts they decided on the Irish team. He winced as he remembered the semi-finals match between Ireland and Luxembourg. 220 to 30 was not just a defeat, it was a miserable one.   
  
A sudden shout went up from the crowd and Harry turned his head to see Krum spiral down towards the ground. Harry didn't move. He had studied Krum's actions ever since he had witnessed the first game, and he knew the expression that came over the older players face when he was feinting. True enough, Krum pulled out of the dive, and Harry could feel the relief emanate from the crowd.   
  
The heat was growing. Even from the air, Harry could see the people biting their nails, nibbling their lips and clenching their fists. A cheer went up. The first goal of the game had been scored. Davis, Carlson and Nichols had adopted the Hawkshead Formation, and Harry had to admit that it was an unnerving experience to have three of the best players in the world come hurtling at you. The Bulgarian Keeper, Maranski had indeterminately floated for a few seconds before falling away, allowing Nichols to attack with the Reverse Pass. It was superbly done, and even a 10-0 was better than a 0-0 score.   
  
Then the goals started coming thick and fast on either side. Perhaps the Chasers were on their mettle, or the Keepers were lax. Whatever the reason, the pace of the game accelerated tremendously. The crowd was delighted. This, after all, was what they had come to see. Lee was having the time of his life screaming out his comments, and heckling. Only Harry and Krum had nothing to do yet but wait.   
  
Hermione, seated in the top box, looked anxiously from seeker to seeker, not sure whether to support her boyfriend or her best friend. She had been praying that they wouldn't clash, but in her heart she knew they would and now she was utterly confused. Sitting in the box with all the other wives and girlfriends, she felt very out of place. All these women were models, or actresses, or millionaires. She would have infinitely preferred sitting in the bleachers with all her friends, but that just wasn't meant to be. She thanked her stars that Mr. Weasely was there in his capacity as the English Minister of Magic and wished that the rest of the Weaselys had agreed to join him.   
  
A sneering voice behind her forced her to turn her head. Sitting behind her, discoursing on the poor play of the England team was the bane of her life, Draco Malfoy. Almost as if he felt her watching him, he looked up. "Granger!" he hissed.   
  
She politely inclined her head. "Malfoy. How is the work coming?"   
  
He turned away rudely and she smiled to herself. He may have been her fellow teacher in Hogwarts, but he knew as well as she did that both in seniority and popularity she held the upper hand.   
  
She turned her attention back to the game where both the teams were playing superbly. The score was an impressive 410 to 400, and the Bulgarians were putting in even more effort. The snitch had been sighted once, but before either seeker could even approach it, it had disappeared. But this had put both of them on their mettle and their swoops and curves would have done justice to a flying ballet.   
  
A Bludger zoomed towards Krum and hit him violently on the shoulder. He stifled a groan, but it was obvious to the sympathetic crowd that it was agonizing, and a cry of commiseration filled the air. Harry grinned to himself as he saw even the English cheer Krum. Only a Seeker, and that too an excellent Seeker, was treated with such veneration. Krum had repeatedly proven himself to be the best. It was time to change all that.   
  
Even as these words ran through his mind, his eyes caught the glint of gold. Twisting his head towards it, he saw that Krum hadn't noticed it yet, but the Bulgarian was even closer to it than he was and if he went for it now Krum would get to it first. Harry thought fast. He, very casually, almost elaborately casually, floated towards the snitch, praying that it would not disappear. When he was close enough he hurtled towards it. The sudden change in pace caught Krum's eye and he followed but it was too late. Perhaps Krum could have outpaced an Aidan Lynch, but Harry Potter was a different story. The light blue robes floating around him, Harry had reached the snitch just seconds before his opponent, and did what only the most skilled seeker could do. He employed the Plumpton Pass and swept the snitch into his sleeve, defeating Krum in a photo finish.   
  
The crowd sat still in amazement for a few second, as the scoreboard winked BULGARIA: FOUR HUNDRED; IRELAND: FIVE HUNDRED AND SIXTY.   
Lee shouted in joy, "England wins. Harry Potter has the snitch and England wins."   
  
Slowly but surely the crowd gathered momentum and Harry Potter heard the sound he had always wanted to hear - that of crowds in a Quidditch stadium chanting one name - his own.   
  
DISC. None of the characters are mine, and if you didn't realize that what are you doing reading fanfiction?   
  
Please review, flame whatever. i have four more chapter ready, but because of fanfictions on and off again status I can't put them up


	2. Please don't read. Stupid me. Go to th...

CHAPTER 16  
  
Disc: Oh well, I'm running out of original disclaimers so imagine your own, ok?  
  
When Harry's eyes fluttered open, he found himself lying prostrate on a hard stony floor. He discovered he had an intolerable headache and his eyes were having trouble focusing. He lifted himself cautiously on one elbow and carefully checked to see if he was still intact and functional. He found he was, and he judiciously raised himself to a sitting position. He looked around and found that he was in the kind of dungeon that dark wizards delighted in. The small cell was murky and gloomy, with not even a single ray of sunlight to leaven the darkness. He groaned. How could he have been foolish enough to give Lucius back his wand? As if in reply to his groan, a figure appeared from the shadows. A silky, fluid voice said, "You are awake, Harry Potter."  
  
Harry's eyes were rapidly adjusting to the darkness and he squinted up at the shape that stood above him. As his sight cleared, he almost let out a gasp of surprise. But he stopped himself just in time, and said with admirable restrain, "Gabrielle Delacour. You are the last person I expected to see here." He did not want her to know that he had been assigned to shadow her and establish her guilt, at least not yet.  
  
The slim figure dropped on one knee beside him and felt his forehead with a cool hand. "How are you, Harry Potter?" she said, calmly disregarding his statement. "You hit your head rather hard when you fell. I think you were concussed. You have been unconscious for almost three days."  
  
Harry's eyes widened. Three days wasted. All the time he could have spent searching for a way to escape, he had spent insensible in a chamber. He could have kicked himself, but his head was hurting too much and all he could do was sit back weakly, and croak out, "Water."  
  
She got up from his side and moved to a ledge nearby. He followed her with his eyes, and tried to get up. The world swam and he collapsed back, everything going black again. Through a cloud he felt strong, slender arms lift him up, and press a glass to his lips. His eyes focused again and this time he found that exquisite face very close to his own, too close for his own comfort. As if aware of his discomfort, she moved away, and he lay down carefully.   
  
"Where am I?" he asked feebly. "Am I still in Paris?"  
  
"Yes, you are. Well, you're a few miles out of Paris as a matter of fact. It is an out of the way fortress, un-plottable on any map.  
  
"I see and from the memories I seem to have, I guess I'm a prisoner of the Circle, aren't I?   
  
"Yes, you are, and you must be wondering what I'm doing here." She said softly.  
  
"You read my mind." He replied, glad at not having to lie. He did wonder why a person like her had chosen to serve the Circle.   
  
She looked at him for a second and then looked away, her wonderful eyes showing pain. "You wouldn't understand." She whispered.  
  
"Try me." he replied just as softly.  
  
"Do you know what it's like always being considered inferior? Do you know what it's like to have people forming opinions just because of the way you look, because of what you are? Do you know what it's like being ostracized because you happen to be misunderstood? Do you?" she said in an agonized burst.   
  
Harry felt for a second that he was looking at the little girl he had pulled out of the water ten years ago. He touched her arm and said gently, "But of course I do."  
  
Her eyes shot up towards his face and she seemed to be about to speak, when the door swung open and Lucius Malfoy walked in, with a self-satisfied smirk. Gabrielle leaped away, and stood proudly at one end of the room.   
  
"Is the prisoner awake? The master will see him now."  
  
"See for yourself." Replied Gabrielle with a slight nod of her silvery head. Lucius looked at Harry and found him staring contemplatively at the wall. As Lucius approached him, Harry looked up.  
  
"Well, if it isn't my lying friend again. What now? The rack perhaps, the iron maiden or some new form of torture you've invented all on your own."   
  
"The Circle wants to see you, Harry Potter. Try holding your insolent tongue around him. He isn't as tolerant as I am."  
  
Harry was pulled roughly to his feet. Still weak, Harry stumbled and staggered. Two death eaters supported him as he made his lurching way to the Great Hall, where the Circle held his meetings. He was thrown down on the cobbled floor where he lay for a few seconds gathering his strength. Even as he lay there, he heard footsteps echoing down the corridor and the Circle swept into the room.  
  
Even in his dazed state, Harry was aware of the remarkably powerful presence of the Wizard. He seemed to possess an aura, which seemed to pervade the room. Harry was forced to admit that this man had something that Voldemort had lacked. Harry wondered what it was.  
  
Then he spoke. "Harry Potter, lying helpless at my feet. Lying bound, weak and pathetic. Oh, the poor, little celebrity! Tell me, my death eaters, what shall we do with him?" Harry recoiled involuntarily from the venom in his voice. It was hate, hate and anger that dripped from every word that The Circle spoke. The death eaters laughed, as if it was a great joke. The Circle walked towards him, cupped his face, and looked into his eyes. He felt the eyes behind the mask burning into him. His scar ached agonizingly. Then the gaze left him and the Circle turned away.  
  
"We shall do nothing… for now." He said in a weary tone. "Let him vegetate in his cell for the time being. Gabrielle Delacour has volunteered to guard him. I don't want any harm to come to him. Not until I order it. Does everyone understand that? If any death eater here disagrees with me, let him speak now." It was proof of the power of the man, that every single death eater obeyed unquestioningly. "Then let us move on to other orders of business."  
  
As The Circle spoke, Harry observed him from his vantage point on the floor. Draco was more or less right in the description. He was tall, perhaps an inch or two taller than Harry, powerfully built, with an agile, graceful walk. Also, he was most definitely English. There was no doubt about that. He was obviously exceptionally intelligent, but more importantly he was a natural leader.   
  
Suddenly he seemed to remember that Harry was in the room. "Take the prisoner back to his cell immediately." He ordered peremptorily. "See to it that he is fed and given some clothes to wear instead of those rags." He continued sardonically, "After all, we should show our VIP guest what courteous people we Death Eaters can be, when we aren't killing people. Shouldn't we?"  
  
The death eaters laughed dutifully and Harry was led out. He was taken back to his cell and left there to ruminate on his thoughts. Even Gabrielle wasn't there to talk to. Suddenly he felt very lonely. He wondered what Ron, Hermione, Sirius were doing and how anxious they were. He knew this was the result of his concussion, because he was still feeling very dizzy and ill. He felt a wave of nausea come over him and was violently sick in a nearby coalscuttle. Feeling absolutely drained, he lay back to catch up on his sleep, when a thought rushed unbidden to his head. The Circle sounded very familiar. The accent, the pronunciation, all of it was very familiar. Even the way he said Harry was familiar. He tried to remember where he had heard the voice before, but somehow it kept evading him. His head was still pounding and despite constant efforts he could not get himself to remember. Eventually he fell off to sleep.   
  
Yay, eleven reviews. Thank you, oh thank you and do review again. I thrive on reviews.  
  
Thanks go to:  
  
Miriam: Thanks for reviewing. You have no idea what a pleasure it is to have a reviewer like you. I'm glad you liked the last chapter, and I promise lots more action in the very near future.  
  
Magicalmischiefmaker: Thanks for reviewing again. Hope you prefer this chapter. As for the circle, Well, keep reading.  
  
Goldenstar555: Thanks. Keep reviewing, do.  
  
Sarah: Thanks for the review. You are perfectly right, I was desperate for feedback and I'm glad you gave some. Harry is different, but with reason. People change a lot in ten years, after all. As for the pairing, I haven't decided anything yet, but there is some more Ginny in the next chapter.  
  
Sara Ane Yun: I agree. Boohoo. I'm desolated. Anyway, thanks for the review and I'll see about the pairing. There is going to be atleast eight to ten more chapters, if not more, so I can develop something.  
  
Yurvin: Thanks so much. Here is some Gabrielle  
  
Darla Neighm: More Cho coming up, but sadly, popular demand seems to veer against her. But I am planning to start a prequel to this about Harry's seventh year defeat of Voldemort, and that will have Cho, do wait for that.  
  
Christy: Thanks. Keep saying that. It's heart warming. 


	3. The party begins

CHAPTER 2   
  
The after-game parties were always riotous. Women, wine, food, laughter, they had it all. There was just one little problem, magic had to be minimized. But that didn't bother Harry as he prepared to go for the party. He quickly showered, and pulled on emerald green robes of silk with a matching cloak held in place with an onyx. He looked at himself in the mirror as he combed his eternally riotous hair. He was not displeased with the reflection that looked back at him. No longer was he Harry Potter, skinny, ugly boy. This was Harry Potter, tall, devastatingly handsome Quidditch hero. He was an easy six feet tall, with the rangy muscular built necessary for any successful Seeker. He had, at the very beginning of his Quidditch career, decided on contact lenses, which made his bright green eyes look even more vivid and intense. His hair was now cut stylishly, and with oodles of gel tamed into a style that made him look bohemian instead of just messy. He was tanned and his sharp aquiline features stood out in stark relief. He had an easy charming smile, and an impeccable taste in clothes.   
  
He strolled out of the room and was immediately mobbed by adoring fans. Handling them with the panache that he had developed over the last four years, he weaved his way through them to where his date awaited him. Kissing her gently on the cheek, he turned back to the people and waved at them, receiving a fresh wave of cheers. Then the two of them disapparated to the hotel where the party was being held.   
  
The Oberon was the most posh hotel of the Wizard world. As Harry walked down the dimly lit gold corridors with delicate inlay of jewellery, he understood why it cost 100 galleons a night. His date hung on his arm, a little awe inspired and he smiled down at her. She was a sweet little thing. Her name was Eleanor Branstone. She had just graduated since she was a few years junior to him in Hogwarts. He liked her cloud of blonde hair and her big blue eyes, but he also had to admit that even for a Hufflepuff, she was quite remarkable foolish. But he didn't really care. He did have his pick of girls, as any three times winner of the Witches Weekly Sexiest Wizard in the world would have.   
  
As these thoughts passed through his mind he turned into the corridor where the party was being held and pushed open the door. He was greeted with the flash of cameras and several voices tunelessly shouting, "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow." Harry covered his face with mock embarrassment. When the song was over, he stepped forward.   
  
"Colin, if you don't turn that damn camera off I will break every bone in your body, and Ginny that goes for your tape recorder too." Harry said laughingly. As he hugged the friends that milled around him, he saw that everyone he most cared about was there. Ron, Fred, George, Charlie and Bill, their flaming heads silhouetted against the fairy lights; Neville, Padma, Parvati, Hermione, Viktor, Justin, Ernie, and all his other Hogwarts friends. Sirius was there, Remus, Arabella, Mundungus, Mr. And Mrs. Weasely and Professor McGonagall. This was where he was meant to be.   
  
The party went on with all the verve that was expected from it. Harry was the centred of attention and Ron watched his best friend as he sat on a nearby table with his long time girlfriend Lavender.   
  
"I always knew he'd make it big," said the loyal friend.   
  
Lavender laughed, "Yeah, we all realized his potential as a Quidditch player, which was just enhanced by the fact that the Magpies kicked out their old seeker just to make place for him. But I never quite realized his potential as a womaniser. I am impressed. How many have there been in the last two years?"   
  
Ron ticked them off on his finger, "Well there was Lisa, then there was Hannah, then there was that stunning Slytherin girl who played for the Catapults. We all wanted to date her. What was her name? Yes of course, Blaise Zabini. After Blaise, there was that pretty blonde from Ginny's batch, Marguerite. Then he went out with Eloise Midgen, who I have to admit looks pretty good after the new nose-fixing thing was discovered. And if rumours are to be believed he is now systematically working his way through the Harpies."   
  
Hermione came up to the table just then on Krum's arm and added, "You forgot Cho, Ron. If I remember rightly she was his first girlfriend, and the last he was serious about."   
  
Ron immediately sobered. "Yes, I remember how devastated he was when she left him. I often thought that the reason he became such a ladies man was to assuage the pain."   
  
"Well it has been five years, Ron. Shouldn't Harry be getting over it?" asked Krum.   
  
Hermione and Ron shook their heads in unison. "Harry always felt things a lot more deeply than anyone else. Supersensitive, that was him."   
  
"That was who?" said the topic of discussion himself, coming up to their table. He sat down with a sigh of exhaustion. "I have been running around like a mad eagle, meeting millions of people, and being excruciatingly polite to them. I don't want to meet another person as long as I live." He turned his head at his date and gave her a devastating smile. "Elle darling, get me a martini. Desperately dry with vodka and shaken."   
  
As his date skittered off, Hermione gave him an exasperated look. "Where do you get off behaving like that to the poor girl?"   
  
Harry stretched his long legs in front of him and lazily smiled, "It makes her feel needed and it keeps me in martinis. We both win. Oh come on Herm, don't sermonize."   
  
As Hermione, like most other people, could not resist the charm of Harry's light tenor, she relaxed and the evening ended in a spate of ribald jokes and bawdy tales.   
  
Harry leaned back in the rented limousine. The party had been fun. He liked crowds; he didn't need to introspect when he was with them. Now he was taking his date home. They could have just apparated, but Harry had an old world courtesy which insisted on a formal farewell. He looked at her. She looked even prettier at the end of the long evening, perhaps because of the five martinis he had drunk. Her eyes were wide, her skin flushed, her lips twisted upwards in a vivacious smile. He leant forward and gentle, chastely kissed her on the lips.   
  
Her reaction surprised even him. She returned the kiss with a passion, a vigour that was quite unexpected. By the time the limousine pulled into her driveway she was pressed against him desperately teasing him with her tongue, her arms clasped around his neck.   
  
Harry smiled. This was going to be a diverting little rendezvous after all. She pulled him into the house, gently nibbling on his ear. Once inside, her hands fiddled with the zip of his robe, pulling it down hastily. He unbuttoned her robe slowly, deliberately, stretching the wait. She was sweating profusely, stung into a wild desire. They fell on the bed together, his head between her full breasts, licking, biting her nipples. She looked at him for a long moment and then bent her head between his legs arousing him to excitement with the expertise of a much older woman. He moaned with pleasure and slid into her perfectly, coming to a delightful peak, a perfect pinnacle of pleasure. And as he reached his point of ecstatic arousal, he screamed out unconsciously one name - CHO.


	4. Decisions

CHAPTER THREE   
  
Fred Weasely whistled as he prepared to go for practice. Playing for the Falmouth Falcons was a fairly fulfilling career, though it was not the dream of his life. He had once hoped to start a jokes industry in collaboration with his brother. They had even invented quite a few things. But the trend never caught on, and when they were both offered the position of Beater for the Falcons, they had immediately accepted. They had been told that they had the reputation of the Broadmoor brothers to live up to, and this afforded them some amusement. It was a profession which brought them fame and money. Though they were not in the Harry Potter category in either commodity, they were not too badly off. As he pulled his gray robes over his head, he felt a kiss on his head. He twisted around and pulled his wife into his arms. Angelina and he had dated for five years before they finally decided to marry, and this was the best decision of his life. This was also something he and George had done together. They had a huge double wedding -Angelina and him, Katie and George.   
  
Fred grinned to himself as he followed his wife into the dining room. As he sat across the table from her, he surveyed her with pride. Angelina was the chief assistant to Kevin Troy of the famous Troy, Mullet and Moran, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, a tall elegant black woman with wit, class and brains. She had risen to the top at an almost meteoric pace and was touted to be the next head, even though she had never even played for any of the clubs, having turned down all the offers.   
  
A knock on the door reminded him to hurry. "That must be George, darling. I have to go. I'll see you tonight. What about dinner out? Maybe we can double date with George and Katie." Without waiting for an answer he ran out, leaving Angelina smiling indulgently behind him.   
  
Reaching the pitch, the twins were astonished to see Harry at the gates waiting for them. "Guys, we need to talk."   
  
The twins, mystified, followed their friend to the dress room. "What are you doing here, Harry? Aren't you supposed to be practicing with the Magpies today? The Season will be starting pretty soon."   
  
Harry nodded dismissively, "Yeah, yeah practice doesn't begin till one any way. I have a problem. Ron seems to have disappeared and I don't know who to talk to."   
  
Fred was about to crack a joke, but seeing the tension on Harry's face he arranged his own features into an expression of almost ludicrous concern. "What's up, man?" he asked.   
  
"Well," said the younger man seriously. "Dumbledore came to see me today. He said that there was some serious dark magic trouble going on. It seems some neo-death eaters have organized themselves into a band. Their leader is supposed to be someone brilliant. No one knows who they are or who he is. They are deeply secretive and very well prepared. We have to find out who they are, who the ringleader is. And he has asked me to do this."   
  
The twins gaped at him. "Why you?" asked George. "I mean you're not even a Auror or an Unspeakable! You are just a Quidditch player."   
  
"Well, I did top my year in the Auror Training Academy, and I defeated Voldemort. So you can't say that I haven't had any experience. But the real reason he wants me on it is because he thinks that my Quidditch playing, my interaction, my traveling, my reputation is the perfect cover. Nobody will suspect I'm on the case. He'll be sending a detective to help me, but I will be the one in charge. So what do you guys think? Should I do it?"   
  
The twins glanced briefly at each other. They knew how wholeheartedly Harry threw himself into any project, they remembered the years of tension that everyone who had cared for Harry had gone through. They recalled all the times Harry had almost died. But they also realized that, though Harry was an exceptional Quidditch player, his real vocation was in fighting the dark arts. That was what he was meant to do. They nodded in unison.   
  
"Yeah, Harry we think you should go for it. You know you'll feel guilty if you don't. Go ahead and kick some evil ass."   
  
Harry grinned at them. "You know what, I'm going to do just that. And guys, another thing, don't tell anybody. I'm going to tell Herm and Ron of course, but even they are going to be bound to secrecy. Now go out there and do your job."   
  
The twins walked off and Harry went out, his face reflecting deep thought. Though he had shown characteristic flippancy in front of the twins, this had been a tough decision to make. He remembered how difficult it had been for him to break away from the field of DADA.   
  
FLASHBACK:   
"I am going to flunk. I just know it. I can't pass this exam. I totally forgot everything."   
  
"Oh, shut up Herm," grinned Harry. "Have you ever flunked anything in your life?"   
  
"No, but there could always be a first time. And with my luck it would be the most important exams of my life, the one that would qualify me to teach DADA."   
  
"Every exam of your life has been the most important to you. This is exactly how you behaved after the OWLS and after the NEWTS and after the Auror Academy Entrance Exam. Must I remind you how you performed in those?"   
  
Hermione flounced away and Harry went off to his own room laughing to himself. Like most brilliant people, Hermione was desperately insecure about her own prowess. After Graduation, he remembered one long night when the three of them sat and talked about what they wanted to with their lives. Ron, of course, was set for the Ministry of Magic where he was going to do his fathers old job in the Improper Use of Muggle Artifacts Ministry. Harry knew what he wanted to do. Ever since he had defeated Voldemort, he knew that he had to dedicate his life to fighting against evil, to wiping out the remnants of Voldemort's corrupt empire. Hermione was the indecisive one, unsure about her abilities and about her opportunities. They discussed a job deciphering runes, a job as an Arithmancy logician, but she chose eventually. She wanted to do DADA and teach at Hogwarts, hold down the job that had such a dicey reputation. With that aim in mind Harry and she had joined the Academy. Now two years had passed and it was time to take their place in the real world.   
  
The results were out. Harry had topped, but this was not really surprising. DADA had always been his field, where he could beat even Hermione effortlessly. She came a very close second though, and got the job in Hogwarts without even having to apply for it, Dumbledore himself requesting her to join. Harry was all ready to join the Aurors, Mad Eye Moody himself offering to initiate him in the ways of the Hunters.   
  
Thrilled by this offer, Harry went off to celebrate at a nearby Wizard bar. He was alone because term had already begun in Hogwarts and Ron had been sent off to take care of a dancing pressure cooker, which sang 'I am too sexy for my spout' every time it was put on the fire. He was sitting at the bar, nursing a Grand Marnier when a beautiful girl sidled up to him. Harry had not had an overwhelming exposure to attractive women, he was still unsure about his potential looks so he was pleasantly surprised. She sat on the chair next to him. They got to talking as happens so often with strangers. Even so, he was taken aback when she offered to come home with him. Walking home they were attacked by death eaters who wanted to kill Harry. He managed to hold them off, but not for too long. He saved himself, but she was killed. She died of the Cruciatus curse, unable to withstand the agony; she died writhing in his arms. Over her body Harry Potter vowed that he would never take up a profession which would harm anybody but himself.   
  
Harry shook himself. That was three years ago, and the memory of it still haunted him, the memory of the girl with her wonderful smile and glorious eyes. He still blamed himself for her death. But some things were larger, and more pervasive than guilt, and he was going to dishonor his vow to the dead by honoring his duty to the living. He was going to tell Dumbledore that he was ready for whatever they wanted him to do.   
  
Review, flame whatever, just want to know you've been reading


	5. The Phoenix

CHAPTER 4   
  
"Wipe that sneer of your face Narcissus," the mirror said as Draco Malfoy studied himself. He groaned as he turned away. He had to get the one mirror in the entire damned school that not only talked nonstop, but also insisted on being personal. But that was the problem with this school - everything talked, the students, the professors, the paintings, the ghosts, the mirrors, the bathtubs, the armors. Everything! It was impossible to get peace and quiet in this school. And that was what he wanted most - solitude. But he was happier here than anywhere else. Nobody eyed with suspicion, nobody made snide remarks to his face, and he had certain measure of respect from his students. He was comfortable.   
  
He told the mirror to shut up. Narcissus indeed! So he was a good-looking guy and he knew it. That didn't mean he was vain. He was slightly built, 5'9 or so, with a smooth head of silvery hair closely cut. His features were delicate and aristocratic, emphasizing a pair of intense blue-gray eyes framed with lashes that would make any woman jealous. Most women found him attractive. But, as he thought viciously to himself, in this too he lost out to Potter. Perfect Potter! The Golden Boy of the Quidditch World! Gods Gift to women! Though Draco had trained himself to be polite to Harry whenever they met, that didn't mean that he had to like him.   
  
Draco stalked out in his black robes drawing several admiring glances from the Slytherin girls. He was oblivious to their obvious adulation, and that was very irking for the teenage girls. But he had a good reason, the best - he was interested in someone already. Draco shook himself. He prided himself on being impervious to feminine wiles, but one woman had got through the cloak of inflexibility that he wore. She had worked her way under his skin and as she wound her way to the teacher's table, he felt himself looking up at her and blushing, like an adolescent schoolboy. Damn Hermione Granger.   
  
She sat down next to him, and buried herself in a thick tome, titled "History of Wizardry - The Renaissance." She was so engrossed in it, that she didn't notice him look at her, drink her in. Her wavy mane of shoulder length chestnut hair, her warm hazel eyes, her fine features, the spectacles perched on her small, Grecian nose - every feature was just perfect. There was only one little insurmountable problem - She was muggle.   
  
Hermione looked up to find Draco staring at her with an oddly intent look. As she caught his eye, he immediately glanced away, surprising her with his abrupt embarrassment. However she didn't have too long to think about it, because just then a huge snowy owl swooped down. She knew it was from Harry - since his original Hedwig, Harry had insisted on having owls he name Hedwig II, Hedwig III and so on. This almost amazingly unimaginative nomenclature did make identification a lot easier.   
  
She ripped the letter open and quickly scanned its contents. Then with a gasp of fury, she got up from the table and strode off to the gargoyle, which marked Dumbledore's office. Reaching it, she rapped out the password "Fizzing Whizzbees" peremptorily and marched in. As she entered Dumbledore looked up quizzically.   
"May I help you, Professor Granger?"   
  
"Well I hope you can Professor Dumbledore. I would like to know the meaning of this."   
  
"The meaning of what, Professor Granger?"   
  
"This letter Professor Dumbledore. How could you have enlisted Harry in the Order again? He isn't an Anti Dark Arts Agent any more. He is a Quidditch player. It just isn't done."   
  
"Sit down, Hermione and listen to me. I don't need to enlist Harry in the Order. He is the Order. Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet. He is the Phoenix. There is no one better for this fight, particularly if what we suspect is true"   
  
"He is really the Phoenix? But he can't be. I thought the phoenix had to have a rebirth."   
  
"The Phoenix did have a rebirth. Let me tell you something. After Voldemort's Avada Kedavra curse hit Harry, he did die. It is impossible to survive the killing curse. But somehow he came back to life. The Powers that Be made it happen, and they must have had a reason. Harry doesn't know this, but Voldemort was only his first test. He will have plenty of dangers to face and overcome in the coming years. That is why the basic grounding in DADA was necessary. But even without it, he would have been capable of almost any feat. It is his battle, we are only his generals and I'm going to give you a responsibility, which I know you can handle - telling Harry that he is the Phoenix."   
  
Hermione gasped. "Professor, can't you do it? You know how sensitive Harry is about his 'Boy who Lived' status. How do you think he would react to the fact that he was the Phoenix?"   
  
Dumbledore chuckled. "I know just how he is going to react. He is going to rant and rave and finally submit and then put up the most brilliant battle that we have ever seen. That is Harry Potter all over. It'll come better from you than from me, and even better get Ron to help you. He is returning from Sussex tomorrow."   
  
Hermione shot her old Headmaster a glance of mock fury, and then walked out, debating with herself how to best tell Harry. Finally she decided to take Dumbledore's advice and fire-call Ron. She tossed some powder on the flames, and muttered some arcane words over them. The next thing she knew, she was looking into Ron's dining room and Lavender was laughing down at her.   
  
"Hey Herm, what are you doing here this time of the morning? Aren't you supposed to be teaching a class of magical delinquents?"   
  
"Yes Lavender, I am. But just to see you and more importantly Ron, I took off. But I don't have too much time, so could you please call him out?"   
  
Lavender shook her brown cloud of hair away from her face, and laughed. "Sure, honey. Let him just come out of the shower."   
  
Almost on cue, Ron stepped out of the bathroom, red hair combed off his face, blue eyes twinkling good naturedly, and a skimpy towel wrapped around his waist. On seeing Hermione he blushed fiercely, and ran back into the bathroom. When he reemerged it was dressed more conventionally in boxer shorts and a T-shirt. He went up to the head in the fire and kissed her on the cheek.   
  
"To what doe we owe this pleasant surprise?" he asked quizzically, looking down at her from his height of 6'2.   
  
Hermione smiled at him fondly. Ron had always been the most dependable one of the trio. Hot tempered, intensely loyal, deeply committed, he was surprisingly also the most balanced. Harry, as Hermione was the first to admit, was a genius. He had the temperament that went with such talent - that of a tennis star or a Prima Donna. She herself was too much of an acadaemic to be of much use in the practical world. At times like this she was glad to have him at her side. Once she had believed that there could be something between them, but the slight attraction had faded away, and they were content being just friends. But now was not the time to reminiscence.   
  
"Harry is the phoenix," she stated baldly. "Also Dumbledore has given us the responsibility of telling him that."   
  
Ron's reaction was almost identical to hers. He dropped his head between his hands and groaned. Finally the head emerged, and almost piteously asked, "Why us?"   
  
At that point Lavender interrupted. "Guys, I know that I am not as close to Harry as you two are, but from an outsiders point of view, there is no one better to break this news to him. You are his closest friends, he knows he can trust you; he knows that you would never lie to him or even deceive him. Have you ever known Dumbledore to make a foolish decision or a rash one?"   
  
Hermione and Ron looked at each other, abashed. Finally Ron went and put an arm around Lavender. "Now I remember why I fell in love with you," he said laughingly. "It's because you were such a warm, wonderful and sensitive person. You are absolutely right. It is our duty to tell Harry what he is."   
  
Hermione nodded. "Lets do it. Tomorrow then we begin Operation Harry Potter."   
  
Ron concurred fully, adding "Why don't we meet him for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron and Herm, tell the man to come without a date if he possibly can. And to wear a mask! I do not want to be mobbed by a maddened, frenzied band of slavering fans."   
  
Hermione shrugged. "I'll tell him, but he is Harry Potter." With that her head popped away.   
  
Ron frowned. "24 years as a wizard and that never ceases to unnerve me." 


	6. The Confession

CHAPTER 5 - Telling the truth  
  
Disc: If I owned this I'd not be writing this damned thing, so go figure.  
  
Harry looked at the letter he held in his hand with a frown creasing his forehead. Though Hermione usually sounded harried, this letter held a tone that he had never quite noticed before. If he hadn't known Hermione as well as he did, he would have called it awe. But he immediately penned a reply to the effect that he would be at the Leaky Cauldron with bells on. Then he went off for practice.  
  
After a vigorous three hour-long practice, Harry left to prepare for his lunch with his two friends. He pulled a comb roughly through his bohemian curls, pulled on a pair of black jeans and a silver gray shirt. He tugged a black corduroy jacket over his shoulders and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. To his surprise, both his friends were there before him. Ron was known for his almost extraordinary propensity for procrastination, and Hermione was prone to getting engrossed in books and forgetting appointments. But this time they were both there, and all dressed up to boot. Ron's rugged good looks emphasized by his crisp blue shirt and beige pants, which perfectly complemented Hermione's delicate gray silk skirt and white shirt. With a pang Harry remembered the time they were dating. He knew them better than they knew themselves, and he was perfectly aware that they were just right for each other. His only sorrow was that they were blissfully unaware of it. Though Harry liked Krum and Lavender, it irked him that they got in the way of what could have been the perfect relationship.  
  
The two ushered him in, and with a nod to Tom, the old innkeeper, they headed as if of one accord to a small alcove in one corner. They sat him down, and then seated themselves across him. Harry looked at them apprehensively. "What is this, the Spanish Inquisition? Would the two of you quit staring at me?"  
  
Then they started staring at each other, as if they were debating over something. Finally Hermione took a deep breath. "Harry, this is going to be difficult for you. But you have to know about it. You aren't being asked to join the Order of the Phoenix. You are the Order of the Phoenix!"  
  
Harry gaped at his friend as she delivered this dramatic statement. He leant over to check if she had a temperature, and found that she didn't. He sat back and took in the astounding information. "What do you mean, Herm?" he asked curiously.   
  
Hermione, relieved to have blurted out the information, looked her best friend straight in the eye. "Harry, remember fifth year when we were inducted into the Order? We were told about the Phoenix then. The prophecy of the all-powerful force that comes every millennium in different forms to cleanse the world. I was fascinated by the legend of the Phoenix, and researched deeply into the origins (At this point Ron rolled his eyes). Some of things I learnt were very important in the search for the next phoenix. The Phoenix for the 2nd millennium Anno Domini must appear soon. These things were that, firstly, the Phoenix must face death and emerge unscathed from it. Second, the Phoenix was a man. It says that the sexes alternate. Third, the phoenix will have powers even he will be unaware of. Fourth, the Phoenix will always be more at ease in the air than on the ground. Fifth, the Phoenix will protect the world once without anyone recognizing him as the power that he is. Now who does that sound like?"  
  
Harry didn't deign to reply to that obviously question, but Ron cut in, "It sounds like you!"  
  
Harry raised one eyebrow delicately. "You guys know as well as I do that there must be a million other people in the Wizard world who fit that description."  
  
Hermione snorted, "Yeah, and how many do you know who've survived Avada Kedavra curses?"  
  
Harry stubbornly shook his head. "It is just impossible, Herm. I mean the Phoenix is supposed to have untold of powers. Merlin was the Phoenix for the last but one millennium and you know that he is considered to be the greatest magician ever. I just don't think I'm that powerful."  
  
Ron said musingly, "Hermione's Bible rule no.3: the phoenix will have powers even he will be unaware of."  
  
Harry glanced furiously at his friend, who looked away casually whistling. Hermione leant forward eagerly. "Harry, if you won't believe us, at least trust Dumbledore. He believes you to be the one. You have proved your powers repeatedly. I mean what are the chances that you would have survived confrontations with Voldemort seven times, before actually defeating him in your seventh year? Do you remember Dumbledore telling you how many grown men, skilled wizards had been incapable of putting up the fight that you had when we were just in our second year. There has to be something exceptional about you. For crying out loud, you defeated him when you were an infant and you don't even know how."  
  
Harry looked down at his hands. "I do know how. It has nothing do with my powers, or lack of them thereof. I was saved because my mother died to protect me."  
  
Ron gently said, "Harry, your parents weren't the only one who died to save their children. There were the McKinnon's, the Bones, the Prewetts and god only knows how many others. None of their children survived the Avada Kedavra. You did."  
  
Harry looked like he was about to argue. Then he buried his head in his hands. Above his bent head, his best friends exchanged glances of deep consternation. Harry always took things so hard. Just then Harry looked up at them. "Ok I am the phoenix. So, what now? What do I do? Are there things I need to learn or do I just go crusading around the land looking for evil and destroying it wherever I find it. I can't do that guys, I have a life to lead, quidditch to play, women to date. Are you guys asking me to leave all that?"  
  
The other two winced at the bitterness in their friends voice, the pain they thought they'd never hear after Voldemort had been vanquished. "No, you can still play quidditch, lead an ordinary life. We are just here to tell you that this is your battle and you must fight it."  
  
Ron echoed Hermione's sentiments, "She's right you know. We'll d all we can to help, but you're the boss."  
  
Harry looked agonized, "But I can't. I am not strong enough. Really, I'm not! I'm not that powerful. I'm not a Medea who could cast spells of fascination, I'm not a Merlin who could influence empires, and I am not a Jeanne d'Arc who could lead a war. I'm just a quidditch player."  
  
"No Harry, you're not just a quidditch player. You are the phoenix whether you like it or not and none of us are going to let you forget your responsibility." The three turned around in surprise to see Sirius and Remus standing at the bar grinning at them.  
  
"What are you guys doing here?" asked Harry suspiciously.  
  
"Well, Dumbledore summoned us for a meeting of the order of the Phoenix. We are here to escort the Phoenix to his court."  
  
Although laughing at Sirius's mock courtly manner, Hermione said sternly, "Can't you ever be serious?"  
  
Sirius and Remus spoke together as if in a vaudeville routine, "I'm/He's always Sirius." Then they collapsed into peals of school-boy laughter, reminiscent of their marauder days.  
  
Harry looked at them sharply. "Why the urgency, guys? Why couldn't Dumbledore just have owled us?"  
  
Remus immediately became sober. "The neo-death eaters have just killed some more people. I think we need to discuss a plan of defense before you leave for your tour Harry."   
  
Harry nodded curtly. "We'll be right there. Who's been killed?"  
  
Sirius looked sad as he mumbled, "Good friends."  
  
The three younger people glanced at each other deeply concerned.   
  
  
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	7. The Funeral

Disc : You know the routine and so do I. Let's forget about it.  
  
CHAPTER 6  
  
The death eaters crowded into the huge room, faces hidden behind black masks. Their sibilant whispers filled the room. One of them, a tall man in black velvet robes took his place on the podium. "The Circle Envoy is going to be with us today." The whispers changed into awe-filled gasps. A short man stepped forward, "Lucius, tell us. Are we going to finally find out who he is today?"  
  
The taller man looked down at him. "Don't try to be more of a fool than you naturally are. You know that we aren't supposed to use names in the congregation. That is why we have been given numbers. I mean, what if there is a spy amongst us? And no, he is not going to reveal himself. He is not an idiot. After Lord Voldemort was betrayed, there is very little trust left in the ranks of the death eaters. The Circle will remain just The Circle to all but a chosen few."   
  
One man among them knotted his eyebrows together. Who could this leader be? With his obsessive need for secrecy, his hatred for muggles and muggle borns and his almost fanatic loathing for Harry Potter, he was the perfect choice as a leader. He was cautious, he was brilliant and he was unnaturally focused. This was to be his second appearance, and everyone was waiting with bated breath.  
  
"I am here!" The words reverberated, striking the wall and penetrating the soul of every man standing there.   
  
There was a hush in the room as the Circle walked in. Cloaked in black like the rest of them, he would have stood out in a crowd because of his almost extraordinary presence. He had personality, personality that showed in his commanding bearing, his persuasive voice and his intense walk. Lucius Malfoy dashed forward and fell to one knee to kiss his new masters hand.   
  
"Rise Lucius. You do not need to kneel to me. You have been a loyal friend and a good advisor. I am just. I reward the faithful and punish the treacherous. A traitor does not deserve to live. They are the lowest, most contemptible class of sinners. I abhor traitors. Do you know what I do to people I hate, Igor Karkaroff?"  
  
A man standing well behind most crept forward and threw himself at the feet of the Circle. "I am sorry, sire. I am genuinely sorry. I did not mean to betray you in any way. Forgive me, forgive me."  
  
"I am not going to wait for some Judas to crucify me, I am not going to wait for some Brutus to stab me. You are not forgiven. Die Karkaroff. Avada Kedavra!" A flash of bright green light filled the room… and Harry Potter awoke in a room in Hogwarts, his eyes wide with terror and his hands raised to his scar.  
*************  
  
"Why is he dreaming about these meetings again Dumbledore?" asked an anxious Minerva McGonnagal as they congregated for the funeral of Padma Patil and her husband Terry Boots who had been killed by the minions of the Circle.  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't know, Minerva. At the best I can surmise and it is too early for us to make surmises. We need to gather more information, and young Harry is our greatest strength. This newfound ability of his is a definite advantage in our search for the truth."  
  
Minerva nodded as they made their way across to Parvati Patil who sat in the front aisle, her eyes covered with a handkerchief. Lavender, her best friend since Hogwarts, had her arms around her, but even Lavenders muttered "Hush" could not mute Parvati's bitter sobs. Ron stood with Harry, a little behind the two girls, his face slightly pale. He had dated Padma a few times in their fifth and sixth year and had remained close friends with her. Harry looked deeply absorbed in his own thoughts. Though he was very sorry about Padma's and Terry's death, he was more interested in the dream he had the night before. He had not told any of his friends about it yet, and he was dreading the moment. Dumbledore had, of course, taken the news with calm interest with which he handled most other things.  
  
Just then Hermione walked in. She kissed Parvati sympathetically and then went around to join her two best friends. "Where do you think the rest of Hogwarts staff is? I mean Terry was the Arithmancy Professor after all. The least they can do is show up. Well perhaps not Malfoy, but Neville and Fleur and all the rest could do the dead the courtesy of coming."  
  
"Actually Hermione, I don't know about Fleur and the rest, but Neville did offer to come. Just Dumbledore told him his duty was towards the students and he should stay on Hogwarts grounds to protect the kids in case anything happened." Said Harry.  
  
Ron looked shrewdly at his friend. "But that means that Dumbledore actually thinks something dangerous might happen."  
  
"Or he just wants to take all the necessary precautions. I mean I am here, Dumbledore is here, and McGonnagal is here. I suppose it is necessary to observe certain measures to ensure safety. Who else has come Harry?"  
  
"Well, Ginny and Colin have been sent to represent the Daily Prophet. They've become quite a team haven't they?"  
  
Ron nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if they ended up making a match of it. I was pretty sure he liked her back in Hogwarts."  
  
Hermione shot back, "Yes and they didn't make a match of it then for the same reason they won't make a match of it now. A certain 6 foot tall, green eyed reason."  
  
Harry blushed. "Hasn't Ginny gotten over me yet? I thought she had. I mean somewhere around our sixth year she actually started to look me in the eye when she spoke to me and then I thought that she had grown out of it."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, why must you men be so naïve? She didn't grow out of it, she just grew up."  
  
Ron gave a short nod of agreement. "Yeah Harry, she still likes you. If it wasn't for the fact that I have proof to the contrary, I would say that you were leading her on."  
  
Harry's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Well now that you come to mention it she has grown up to be quite a looker. I mean that lovely flame red hip length hair, and those gorgeous eyes, the color of old sherry and a height and figure most models would die for. Why didn't I notice that before? Perhaps I should start looking closer to home for my conquests hereon."  
  
Ron glared at him and Harry gazed back sweetly. Hermione glanced at the Daily Prophet duo speculatively. "Actually they do make rather a couple. Who would have thought that Colin Creevy would grow up to be such a looker? That chiseled body, that dark brown hair highlighted with gold; those great tawny eyes and a nice smile too. I can only think of two better looking wizards of my acquaintance, Harry and Draco Malfoy."   
  
As both her friends started yelling at her simultaneously she held up her hands. "Pax, people, pax. I don't like the guy, but I have to admit he is a looker. Only Harry beats him and that's only because Harry is the best looking guy I know." Harry tried to curtsy with his robes, failed dismally and the three of them collapsed into peals of laughter.  
  
Ron pouted. "Now that isn't fair. What about me? I is a real looker, I is."  
  
Hermione just stuck her tongue out at him in a manner most unbefitting the prim DADA teacher of Hogwarts  
  
Just then the funeral service started and out of deference to the dead, the three stood quietly and let the ceremony continue. As it finished Dumbledore came up to them. "Harry, would you and Miss Granger meet me in my office in half an hour? It is rather urgent."  
  
Harry and Hermione nodded curtly and filed outside. Once there the three stood basking in the sunlight, when suddenly a cry from Harry made the other two look at him with concern apparent in their eyes. "What is it, Harry?" asked Ron.  
  
Harry pointed ahead of him and said softly, "Oh my god, Cho!"   
  
  
  
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	8. The Secrets

CHAPTER 7  
Disc: yeah yeah and all that bull  
  
"What is she doing here?" asked Harry, looking wildly at his friends.   
  
Ron shrugged his shoulders but Hermione said, "Well Harry she was a Ravenclaw you know, and I believe she knew Terry quite well because of Quidditch. You really can't object to her coming to pay her respects."  
  
Harry stared mutinously ahead of him. "Yes I can and I do. Just when I was beginning to get over her, why does she have to come waltzing back into my life?" Then on a note of anguish, "Look at her."  
  
The other two did so with interest. Cho had always been pretty, but now she had the looks that befitted her status as an international super-model and brand ambassador for several wizard enterprises. She was tall, 5'9 or so, topping petite Hermione by a head. She was exquisitely slim and willowy with a clear ivory complexion, slanted sloe eyes framed with long lashes and a mane of silky black hair framing perfect features. She was dressed in white silk sleeveless robes, which emphasized the slender sinuous shape of her figure and every man in the church turned to gape at her as she made her swaying way over to Parvati.   
  
"Darling Parvati," said Cho in the husky, sultry voice that had become famous for saying, "Who needs a bat anyway? Butterbeer is what makes me hot." after the infamous split between Butterbeer Breweries and the Ballycastle Bats. "I am just so sorry. Dear Padma and darling, darling Terry dead! I can't believe it. I rushed over the minute I heard"  
  
Prosaic Hermione leant over to Ron and whispered, "She couldn't have. The press release was out three days ago."  
  
Ron murmured back, "I know, but what a performance, don't you agree? I mean, darling, darling Terry indeed! I know for a fact, because Padma told me, that Terry couldn't stand her. He found her all too, too gushy."  
  
"Isn't she just?" shot back Hermione. "I never did realize why Harry liked her so much. Or, come to that, why she was so popular to Hogwarts either."  
  
Ron gesticulated vaguely. "Hush, I think she's going to say something more."  
  
True enough Cho continued, "I was utterly devastated. We were such friends, such intimate friends. I'm going to miss them so much." She gently flirted with her eyelashes. "You must be absolutely heartbroken, Parvati, you poor dear. But I want you to know that they live on in our memories." On that line she made a magnificent exit with Colin running beside her trying to get some photographs.  
  
"Oh my sainted aunt!" gasped Ron. "No one told me that she was planning on trying out for the Harlequin (The wizard equivalent of the Academy Awards)."  
  
"That, my precious; illiterate brother, is because you haven't ever read Witches Weekly. Cho is planning to branch out. She says, and I quote, modeling is just so soul killing." said Ginny as she joined the trio.  
  
Hermione and Ron immediately burst out laughing, but stopped with one glance at Harry's introspective expression. Ron laced his hand on his friend's shoulder. " It's ok, man. You aren't the still growing, teenage, pimply DADA student anymore. You are Harry Potter, seeker extraordinaire, idol of women all over the world, Witches Weekly's Most Charming Wizard. She is going to be worshipping at your feet."  
  
"Yeah, right!" said Harry bitterly as he walked away. He tossed over his shoulder, "Come on Herm, we have to get to Dumbledore's office. He's probably waiting for us." Then he added sternly, "Ron, I don't want another word about Cho. I don't want to see her, I don't want to talk to her, I don't want to talk about her, and I don't even want to hear about her. Kapish?"  
  
"Kapish," said Ron weakly to his friends retreating back.   
  
Hermione hurried to keep up with her friends long stride as he strode to Dumbledore's room. Once there he peremptorily snapped, "Sugar Quills" to the gargoyle and entered the office. Hermione followed him at a slower, steadier pace. Inside, Harry calmly appropriated the most comfortable chair and waited for Dumbledore to arrive. Just then Fawkes flew up to Harry ad settled himself on his knee.   
  
"How are you then, old bird?" asked Harry softly and was electrified to hear the reply.  
  
"Fine, Harry Potter. And you?"  
  
"You can talk?"  
  
"Only to you Harry. You are the Phoenix, you know. Now that you have discovered that, you are going to discover quite a few other things. This one for example. I am yours now. I was Merlin's bird too. I offered to serve Joan, but that girl was too busy planning out her grand wars to listen to my council. I was then given to the Guardians. The Guardians are a group who await the coming of the phoenix and try to keep the world in order until he or she come. Albus is a Guardian. So is your little bushy haired friend."  
  
"Hermione? You must be kidding."  
  
"Ask her for yourself."  
  
"What other things am I going to discover?"  
  
"Well, your double animagi shape for one. You see, the Phoenix has a double role to play. One is that of the protector of the innocent, the other is that of the crusader against evil. So the Phoenix must be the perfect balance between light and dark. This quality must come through in the animagi forms as well. Merlin was a gigantic hawk (You know that's why Merlin's are called that). He was also a Griffin. Both animals of the air incidentally! Both powerful animals too! But I sense you are even more powerful than he was. You must learn to commune with your animal persona. It requires practice."  
  
"Ok, I'll make sure that it is the first thing on my agenda. What else do I need to know?"  
  
"Well, you should be able to do wand-less magic, you should be good with most martial weapons and you should be able to summon the spirits of the dead. That much I can tell you. The rest you have to find out on your own. I can only guide you. Now Albus is here. He will tell you more."  
  
Harry looked up with a start to find both Hermione and Dumbledore looking at him with awe in their eyes. "You can talk to Phoenixes." Said Hermione in delight.  
  
"And you are Guardians, both of you. What is this all about?"   
  
"Well, Harry we have news that the next attack is going to be in France. As you are going there for your next game, we expect you to keep an eye open for any sign of trouble. Hermione is going to be there, ostensibly with Victor, but actually to keep an eye on you. Try to uncover the Circle Envoy, will you?"  
  
"Sure, I will. That is my job, isn't it? To track him down and eliminate the threat! Well, I'll try to do the best I can. But, how on earth did you find out that the next attack was to be in France? And on whom incidentally?  
  
"Well we believe the attack is going to be on Pierre Cheval, the French Minister of Magic, who along with Arthur Weasely is lobbying for a Muggle Protection Act to be upheld in the Euro and in UK. Pierre is a good and kind man, and a fine wizard. He wants to meet you very much, so I believe you will see him almost immediately after you reach France."  
  
"I'll be sure to remember that. He is a friend of Mr. Weasely, is he? I'll talk it over with Mr. Weasely before I leave. Monsieur Cheval will find me at his service, but you haven't answered my question. How did you find out?"  
  
"From my spy in the ranks of the Circle, Harry. Hermione, would you please ask Professor Draco Malfoy to join us here, please? I believe he is waiting outside."   
  
Desiree: This chapter is for you, with a background on Cho  
Lynx: You are absolutely correct, don't believe I missed that. thanks for pointing it out  
Vanessa: Keep reading and reviewing  
Juliana Black: No Draco isn't the bad dude. Keep reading. 


	9. The Spy

CHAPTER 8  
  
"Draco Malfoy! Is he trustworthy?"   
  
"You once asked me the same question about Snape. You know he proved his worth in the final battle. In my very long life, Harry, I have learnt to be a reasonably good judge of character. Draco is one of the saddest people I have ever met. He has no friends, no real family, no passions. He was a brilliant student, you know. Only Hermione and sometimes you were better. When I gave him the job as potions master on Snape's recommendation, I wondered whether he was right for it. But he has repeatedly proved himself. He likes the life on the cutting edge. He takes risks because he has nothing to lose. I think this work as a spy has given him a reason to live, a sort of lifework. I know you will be generous, Harry. Don't doubt him."  
  
Harry nodded. "I see your point. Ok, you are pushing it, but I'll try to be nice to the guy. But he makes it so hard."  
  
Dumbledore laughed. "You don't have to fall in his arms and embrace him like a brother. Just tolerate each other."   
  
Harry grinned back; "Like Sirius and Snape tolerated each other during the war against Voldemort?"  
  
Dumbledore joined Harry's wild giggles. It had been the joke of the war. Due to a boyhood dislike, Sirius and Snape were perpetually at loggerheads though they were fighting for the same cause. Sirius, being who he was, aggravated the quarrel by playing the wildest tricks he could think of on Snape. Dumbledore, who enjoyed a good prank as much as the next person, worsened matters by making them partners. Their quarrels had become so historic, that a really good fight was titled a Severus - Sirius scrap. But eventually they had become rather reluctant comrades, and even now with Snape in Russia as the headmaster of Durmstrang, they exchanged letters. Dumbledore expected a similar reaction from Harry and Draco. Actually he expected better because Draco was a more vulnerable person than Snape and Harry was more sensitive and compassionate than Sirius would ever be.  
  
Just then Draco slouched in followed by Hermione. "You wanted me Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
"Yes Draco, I want you to tell Harry and Hermione what your role is in our Order and also tell them what you told me today."  
  
Draco nodded. "Well," he said turning his tired eyes towards the other two, "My job was to infiltrate the group of neo-death eaters. It wasn't too difficult with the Malfoy family name to prop me up. I was to attend the meetings, to listen to their new leader and try to identify him. I'm afraid I didn't get very far. The Circle has only appeared in three meetings so far. All I can say is that he is male, about Harry's height and has one of the most brilliant minds I have ever come across. As a tactician and a strategist, I would say he is unparalleled. He is even better than Voldemort. I think he is a weaker wizard, but a more cautious man.  
  
"Well, in the last meeting, he told us that the next mission would be to eradicate all muggle supporters beginning with Arthur Weasely and Pierre Cheval. He indicated certain death eaters who were given the responsibility of these assassinations. I believe my father is among them. First Cheval is to be killed, then Weasely. Why that particular order I do not know. But I am sure he has his reasons. He usually does. He dislikes communicating face to face. I do not know why. He prefers to send his orders through the few who know him, my revered parent for example. It is one of his idiosyncrasies. That is all I know now. I have been summoned for another meeting tonight. Hopefully I'll find out some more."  
  
Hermione looked at Draco anxiously. She had hear that kind of exhaustion only once before, and that was in Harry's voice before the final battle. She had hoped never to hear that tone in any man's voice again. She impulsively blurted out, "But that could be dangerous, Draco."  
  
Dumbledore gasped as he saw the dumb adoration in Draco's eyes as he looked up at Hermione. So that is the way the wind blows, he whispered to himself. But before he could say anything, Draco shook himself and spoke with a resumption of his old sneering manner, "Yeah, so why do you care Granger?"  
  
Hermione slightly hurt by the repulsion, shrugged and said, "Well we don't want our mission to be endangered in any way."  
  
Dumbledore saw the lowering expression on Draco's face and nodded to himself thoughtfully. He met Harry's eyes and found the same flash of understanding in them. Harry had always been unusually perceptive when it came to his friends, and particularly when it came to Hermione. He made a mental note to tell Harry to keep quiet about it. They didn't need emotional complications at this moment. But Draco's infatuation made him even more susceptible to Harry's hand of friendship.  
  
"Thank you, Draco." said Dumbledore quietly. "I will see you again later. Good luck."  
  
Draco walked to the door and then stopped and turned around. "Look out Potter. The Circle has it in for you like Voldemort never did. Don't ask me why, but whatever you did to him must have been bad. It seems to be personal."   
  
Harry knitted his brows in consternation. "Why? I mean I can understand Voldemort. Originally it was because I was the Phoenix and afterwards it was because of revenge. But The Circle should not have a reason for such enmity. Not at the personal level anyway."  
  
Dumbledore said, "We can discuss that later. Right now you must prepare to go to France. I want you to go talk to Arthur immediately he can give you a feel of the situation. Hermione, could you leave us? I need to tell Harry something not even your friendly ears should hear."  
  
Hermione obediently left and Harry gazed expectantly at his Professor. "Now Harry, I want you to take Fawkes. He belongs to you by rights. Take good care of him. I've gotten rather fond of the old fellow. Secondly I want you to practice your animagii abilities under Fawkes. He is a good teacher. I should know. He taught me. Lastly I want you to keep your mouth shut about Draco to Hermione. I know you noticed."  
  
Harry looked worried. "Yes, but unrequited love isn't the best cure for a shattered soul, you know." He added wryly, "I should know from prior experience."   
  
Dumbledore nodded. "I know. But it's a calculated risk we have to take. How did you feel when you saw Cho?"  
  
Harry grimaced. "I didn't know how much I missed her until I saw her again. We Potters are one-women men at heart. But my father had better taste than I did.   
  
Dumbledore gave Harry a sympathetic pat on the back, but didn't say anything knowing that silence was the best panache for the young mans pain.  
  
"Incidentally", Harry continued. "There was another point I found curious. If Draco's father is one of the few who knows the identity of The Circle, then why is Draco unable to ferret it out of him?"  
  
"I don't know. I believe there has been some sort of falling out between father and son. Draco was reluctant to pose as a spy in the first place, because when his father offered to initiate him in the Dark squad originally, he refused. But that is all I know. I don't believe I can ask him to kowtow to his father purely for information. Now you should really go pack. Your flight leaves soon.  
  
"Ok, and so, on to France."  
  
"And may god be with you."   
  
I am tired of not getting any reviews. boohoo nobody loves me. 


	10. The Minister

CHAPTER 9  
  
Disc: Do I sound like a millionaire? Well then I can't quite be J.K. Rowling, the genius behind Harry Potter, now could I?   
  
  
Harry sat in his seat in the aero - plane and buckled himself in. Apparation over long distances was not advised and even the short distance between England and France was hazardous. Portkeys could be, and often were, organized for over-seas travel, but this time they were traveling muggle. Frankly Harry preferred the 'plane. Ever since his fourth year encounter with Voldemort, he disliked portkeys and avoided them as far as he could. His close friend and Quidditch mentor Jacqueline Murray; granddaughter of the illustrious seeker Eunice Murray was seated next to him. Jackie and he had been friends ever since he had tumbled into the Magpies office begging for an opportunity to try out. She was the captain and a superb Chaser, with an eye for talent that bordered on genius. She immediately gave him a chance, and Harry had never looked back.  
  
Jackie was a tall auburn haired woman about 35 years old with a face both incisive and attractive. She had a magnetic, intense personality that made her a natural leader. She had slept with Harry once, and both had decided it was better to stay friends. They shared a unique relationship, bantering and teasing yet warm and caring. A lot of newspapers and tabloids had often tried to imply that there was something more between them - a sort of "Mrs. Robinson" relationship. Harry couldn't care less. She was the best friend he had made out of Hogwarts and he wasn't going to lose her because of some petty rumors.  
  
"Knut for your thoughts, Potter." she said with a grin.  
  
"Not even a galleon." he returned impudently. "They are worth way too much."  
  
"Impossible." she retorted. "Nothing, but nothing you think can be that important."  
  
Harry sighed. He wished he could tell Jackie his problem, but he knew that his position depended on the utmost secrecy. "Oh, just going over my moves, oh esteemed Captain. Would you want me to desist?"  
  
"No, not at all." she said, suddenly sober. "You know as well as I do how good those damned Quafflepunchers are. I mean, sure, Simone is no Viktor Krum. But don't underestimate her. That is always a big mistake. I remember my days in Hogwarts, and how we were always overconfident about playing Hufflepuff. Remember your opponents may surprise you."  
  
Harry nodded seriously. Then to lighten up the moment he laughingly looked at her. "Why is it that even the funniest, craziest person becomes a raging, obsessive fanatic the minute he or she becomes Quidditch Captain?"  
  
"Thinking Oliver Wood, brat? Well if you think he was bad, thank your stars you never played under Charlie Weasely. He took compulsive to a new high."  
  
"Well, if I remember rightly, neither did you. You were Bill's batch, weren't you?"  
  
Jackie nodded wistfully. "Yeah, we were quite the item, Bill and I. They used to call us the Gingersnaps because of our red hair."  
  
"Well, are you guys getting back together? I've been hearing all sorts of rumors, and some of them are very spicy."  
  
"Ask nay questions and you'll get nay lies." shot back Jackie.  
  
Harry backed down. He knew that Jackie was touchy about her relationship with the handsome Weasely. They had been on and off ever since Harry had known them and though Harry was perfectly aware that they both adored each other, he often wondered when they would realize it. Quickly racking his mind for a change of subject, he found that the plane was about to land. "Oh, good. It looks like we've reached. Lets go sleep off the jet lag." Then with a twinkle in his eyes, "Together?"  
  
A stern look from Jackie made him raise his hand in a laughing apology. "Fin, fine. We are in France, you know. All I need to do to get a woman here is be suave. You don't know what you're missing."  
  
"Actually, I know exactly what I'm missing. And you know what, I'm not missing it."  
  
Harry pretended to burst into tears while Jackie genuinely burst out laughing. "We are here. Now try and behave your age. Ok?"  
  
Harry nodded as he followed Jackie down the stairs of the plane. To his surprise he saw three men in dark suits detach themselves from the crowd to stride up to him.   
  
"Mr. Harry Potter?" asked the tallest of the men, who also looked the oldest and weariest.  
  
Harry nodded and was gestured to follow them. Muttering his excuses to Jackie and the rest of the team, he weaved his way through the thronging people, keeping pace with the men. They directed him to a small room with soundproofed walls. "We are Monsieur Pierre Cheval's men, Mr. Potter. Monsieur Cheval evinces a desire to meet you. Perhaps you could accompany us to his office."  
  
"Certainly." nodded Harry, prepared for the meeting. The three men led him to a small grate.   
  
"Well, Mr. Potter, we are going to use Floo Powder. You know how it works?"  
  
Harry nodded acquiescingly.  
  
"Excellent. Then throw in a pinch, say Rue De Mon. Champignon and step right in."   
  
Harry followed the instructions and found himself in a large bright room with antique furniture. It had some beautiful paintings on the wall, even Harry being able to identify the Monet and the Dali. The huge Louis XII chair was placed opposite to the door and in it sat a man who looked so preposterously young that Harry was unable to stop himself from saying, "You are Minister Cheval?"  
  
The young man laughed cordially. "Mr. Potter, I presume. Yes, I am Pierre Cheval, but you can call me Pierre. You are probably surprised at my age. Well I assure I am not young as I look."  
  
Still in shock Harry blurted out, "Well you can't be. If you were then you would be barely out of school."  
  
"As a matter of fact I have been out of school nine years and I am 27. However I assure you I am perfectly capable of handling this office." Then with a rueful grin, "Not as capable as Mr. Weasely I am afraid, but capable enough. He has told me a lot about you Mr. Potter, as has Professor Dumbledore. Both praise you highly. And there is no mans judgment I would trust more"  
  
Harry grinned, feeling at ease with this rather informal head of state. "Please call me Harry, Pierre. And that is a compliment I can return. They both speak very highly of you as well."  
  
This exchange of pleasantries had broken the ice between them and Harry frankly studied the man who was the youngest Minister of Magic ever. He was tall; topping Harry by an inch, with a well knit compact physique. His eyes were pale blue, the color of the Seine on a sunny day. His hair was dark brown. He was not good-looking, but he had a wide smile, which naturally inspired trust. He wasn't an impressive personality or exceptionally brilliant like some of the Ministers Harry had met, nor did he radiate charm. But he gave an impression of solid good sense, integrity, intelligence and honesty which was very comforting.   
  
"Harry", he said in unaccented English. "Let us not beat around the bush. You are as aware as I am of the danger that this character who calls himself the Circle poses to the Wizarding community. I hope you can help by ridding us of this threat. He is a maniac and must be brought to justice.  
  
"I am afraid, Pierre, he is anything but a maniac. He is an intelligent man with a very set plan and that is far more dangerous. Arthur said you had some information to give me that could help in pinpointing his whereabouts?"  
  
Pierre Cheval nodded. "The Circle's operations in France are being led by a young girl. She is extremely capable and because of her high contacts she is very difficult to touch. Even I cannot defame her without proof. I believe she knows more about him than any other person alive. If you can find some proof against her, we can take her in custody and we might be able to come into possesion of facts."  
  
"Who is this girl?" asked Harry curiously.  
  
Pierre went off in a tangent. "You know the Cheval family is a brilliant one. My father before me was minister of magic; his father was the headmaster of Beauxbaton. The women of the Cheval family also tend towards brilliance. They are also extremely strong-willed. My grandfather had a sister, a very lovely girl. She married against the wishes of the family, but my grandfather had a soft corner for her as he had for the rest of her family particularly her son. He was a nice man, my uncle intelligent, influential, but very gullible and very naïve. He fell head over heels in love with a most remarkably beautiful girl he met at a Quidditch game and married her soon after.   
  
"They had two daughters. One was my age, an excellent student, a gorgeous person, and a fellow student of mine in Beauxbaton. The other was nine years younger, spoilt and lovely. The elder triumphantly topped her year at school, became a competitor for the Triwizard Tournament and then became a professor. The younger was even more brilliant. However when she was very young she was seduced by the Dark side and became potentially the strongest Dark Wizardess in the last century. Yes, Harry I see you know perfectly well who I am talking about. The girl I need you to pump is my nineteen-year-old cousin - Gabrielle Delacour.   
  
Review my story for the sake of god and country and little old me. Please review my story.   
  
Thanks go to:  
  
Desiree: Thanks for the review. Well I did say Harry is a one woman guy but I'm keeping the pairing open for the time being. It could end up anywhere. I do like Cho myself. Maybe its just a prejudiced Hermione and Ron.  
  
Blue jay, Silvershadow, Anja, The water warrior : I hope you guys enjoy this part too.   
  
Marsisbrighttonight: Thanks for reviewing in the first place and I'm longing for an even better review next time. Also thanks so much for you review on my other story. It is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. I want constructive detail on this one too.  
  
Bill Weasly: I wrote that pathetic little note just for kind people like you, please please keep reviewing  
  
Darla: I'll try to keep Harry and Cho together but right now I'll go for the popular vote 


	11. The Veela

CHAPTER 10  
  
Disc: Well here I say my little piece about not owning the characters except Pierre. I wish i did, but if wishes were Ferraris, beggars would drive.   
  
"Gabrielle Delacour! Fleur's sister? But how? I mean, I am sure Fleur would have said something. I meet her every time I go to Hogwarts to visit Hermione. We are pretty good friends."  
  
"The Cheval's don't usually air their dirty linen in front of the world, even when the world is as friendly as you, Harry. Gabrielle is an embarrassment to the Cheval name, but it is something we prefer to downplay. You see, Harry, the Cheval family is one of the oldest and most honored French families. My name has a lot to do with the position I am in now. It wins trust. If word gets out that Gabrielle is a Death Eater, there will be chaos, maybe even riots. As Minister of Magic that is not a risk I am willing to take. That's why I need your help. You can infiltrate her cover without fear because you are a foreigner and you are Harry Potter. Will you help us?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yes, yes I will. I have met Gabrielle, you know. I have distinct memories of her from the Triwizard Tournament. I thought her to be a lovely child. I wonder what could have made her so different. I will do it."  
  
"Thank you, Harry. Thank you from me and from France. This is another debt that the world owes to you."  
  
Harry left Pierre Cheval's office and wandered down to the Tuliere Gardens. Once there, he sat down and seriously thought over the situation. He remembered Gabrielle Delacour vividly. She had been a charming child with innocent ways that were extremely appealing. He had never found her to be spoilt or arrogant, though she shared with her sister an unconscious pride, which he now understood better.   
  
"What," he wondered aloud, "Could have possibly made her a death eater?"  
  
"Perhaps I could answer that." came silvery tones.  
  
"Fleur, oh my god, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Hogwarts is on vacation, you know. And I am here to spend Christmas with my family. But never mind that now. Harry we need to talk and urgently. I must know what Pierre told you."  
  
"Everything, Fleur. He told me about Gabrielle, and he told me that I must hunt her down. I remember her very well, Fleur, both from the Triwizard Tournament and from your wedding to Oliver. What, why…" Harry trailed off.  
  
Fleur Wood took Harry by the hand and they apparated to Montmartre where they sat down at one of the smaller cafes looking on to the Sacre Coeur Cathedral. Once seated, Fleur fastened her huge dark violet eyes on Harry's face. "I will tell you today, Harry, what I have never spoken off to a single person. Even Oliver does not know about this. As you are aware, my grandmother was a Veela. When Voldemort was in full power, he sought out Veelas and used them for his nefarious purposes. You see, the Veela charm is very akin to the Imperius Curse. Under it, most men can be persuaded to do almost anything. It needs an extraordinarily strong willpower to resist it. You are one of the few men I've met who can successfully withstand me, and I am only quarter Veela. So I leave you to imagine the power wielded by full Veelas. Because of this heinous exploitation, Veelas, like werewolves and giants were shunned, they were hunted and brutally butchered. Unable to take this persecution, they fled. No one knows where they went. To all purposes, Veelas have vanished off the face of the earth. The only remaining Veelas are the mascots of the Bulgarian team and they are kept like animals. They are caged and fed surreptitiously. No living being should undergo such atrocities.  
  
"However, when The Circle came on the scene, he found that the simplest way to get to the minds of men was through a Veela. Gabrielle and I are among the very few people with Veela blood in the world. He discovered this and approached me. This was about four or five years ago. I had just married Oliver. I was happy in my job as Charms Professor. All in all, I was content with my life. I refused. Then he approached Gabrielle. Gabrielle was only 14 then. She was going through a difficult time in school, our father had just died and she was susceptible. He showed her all that the dark side had to offer, and she found solace in it. We were all so involved in our own lives, we never noticed until it was too late. By then she was already an integral component of the Dark Side. You see, the Veela power runs truer in her than it does in me. She was only 16. Harry, she is only 19 now. She can't be a hardened criminal." Then pleadingly, "Can she?"   
  
Harry covered Fleur's hand with his own sympathetically. He knew how much the older girl adored her younger sister. Under the flippant exterior, Fleur was a caring and passionate person, and for many years that love had been concentrated on Gabrielle, the motherless little sister. Though Oliver and their little daughter Yvonne had much of that affection now, Gabrielle still held a very special corner in her heart.   
  
"What can I do to help, Fleur? Tell me and I will try. I promise."  
  
Fleur drained her coffee and looked at Harry, wondering if she dared to tell him. Then she made up her mind. "Harry, ever since you rescued Gabrielle during the Tournament, she has had a crush on you, verging on a hero-worship. I remember when I invited her down for my wedding she kept on asking me if Harry Potter would be there. If anybody can draw her away from the Dark Side, it is you. If you can't help her, nobody can. Then I know my sister is truly lost."  
  
Harry choked on his cappuccino. "Fleur, are you asking me to seduce her? Because I don't think I could do that."  
  
Fleur gave him a smile. "Sure you could, Mr. Most Charming Wizard."  
  
Harry frowned. "I swear if one more person throws that in my face. Look, Fleur I may be a jet setting playboy, but this I can't do. You are asking too much from me."  
  
"Look, I'm not asking you to seduce you her per se. All I want you to do is use your influence over her to win her to the Light Side. Also, as I believe I mentioned before, you are one of those rare men who are impervious to our Veela charms, so she can't work her wiles on you."  
  
Harry nodded reluctantly. "All right. I'll try for your sake and because Pierre has asked me to. But I can't promise results."  
  
Fleur looked at him. "Nobody expects you to promise results. Just promise attempts. That is usually good enough." Then she glanced at her watch. "Oh dear, I have to leave. It's Yvonne's bedtime. I'll see you around, Harry. I'll probably come for the match. You know how Oliver is about Quidditch!" She drained her coffee and got up to leave. Harry rose with her and gallantly kissed her goodbye. She returned to the kiss and went off with the smooth sliding gait that was so characteristic of her.  
  
Harry sat down again and ordered some croissants. He was nibbling on them when suddenly he heard a piping note in his ear. He closed his eyes. It was a Phoenix song. Something he had only heard in the direst situations - in his second year when he faced the Basilisk, in his fourth year when Voldemort had been resurrected and in his seventh year during his final battle with the Dark Lord. He immediately asked, "What is it, Fawkes?"   
  
The Phoenix replied, "Run Harry Potter. I feel danger coming. I sense it. Flee."  
  
"I can't just run. What danger? Where is it coming from?"  
  
"No time to tell you Harry Potter. Just go. Go now."  
  
Harry decided not to tempt fate. He turned around and ran for dear life. As he skidded around the pavement he stopped short to see dark figures advance on him.   
  
Whee, Cliffhanger. Enjoy it people.   
  
Now will you guys review? I mean 9 chapters and 19 reviews. It is depressing.  
  
Thanks to  
Desiree : Don't worry it isn't going to be H/h. I am giving serious thought to the romantic situation. I just haven't gotten enough feedback yet.  
  
R-Rok : Thanks for the review  
  
Tess: Here is all you want to know about Gabrielle and lots about Fleur  
  
Water Warrior: Thanks again. Keep reviewing and I'll keep mentioning  
  
Magicalmischeifmaker: Here is more Delacour for you. And trust me, there will be loads more.  
  
Fiona: Thanks for the boost. I need it. 


	12. The shapeshifter

CHAPTER 11  
Disc: Well if you don't know that these characters don't belong to me then you shouldn't be reading fanfiction.  
  
Harry clutched his scar which was beginning to ache agonizingly. As the death eaters came crowding on to him, Harry whipped out his wand, but he realized that he was hopelessly outnumbered. The death eaters were coming in droves. He twisted around, muttered a few spells over his shoulder and ran in the other direction. He heard a few shrieks behind him, telling him that he had hit a few of them, but the rest kept coming. Harry had to think fast. He looked around for Fawkes, but the phoenix seemed to have disappeared. Harry decided to turn down a narrow alley, where he stood for a second trying to catch his breath.  
  
"Now, what do I do?" he wondered aloud, looking around him for some way to escape. But of course in the true tradition of chases it was a dead end. He could hear the thundering footsteps of the death eaters come closer and closer and he knew that there was no escape until…  
  
Suddenly he found wings sprouting from his back and the next thing he knew he was cruising through the air. He felt extraordinarily light, and yet paradoxically extremely powerful. He flapped his wings strongly and rose even higher. He could see the death eaters below him like so many black beetles scattering around looking for him and decided to teach them a lesson. He swooped down and pecked the tallest on the shoulder. Then fast as lightning zipped away. By the time the death eater had turned around, there was no sight of the attacker. Crazed by the intensity of the chase, the death eater wildly hit out at his nearest companion. Naturally outraged the other man hit back. The first death eater dodged the blow which landed on another death eater. Soon the street resembled a rugby scrum or a free for all. Harry perched calmly on a building and watched the scene unfold.  
  
Suddenly an imperious voice cut through the sounds of the fight. It was the voice of a woman, and she shouted, "Merde." Immediately all the death eaters stopped fighting and stood at attention. A figure emerged from within the alley.   
  
"What do you think you fools are doing? You want to draw ze attention of the ze muggles to us? Why must I work with such imbeciles as you?" She took off her hood and Harry knew that all their suspicions were confirmed. It was Gabrielle Delacour. He watched, amazed, as men, years older and much stronger, submissively bowed to her. She strode through the rows snapping out orders like a drill sergeant. Harry could not take his eyes off her. Fleur was beautiful, but Gabrielle was extraordinary. The last time he had seen her, she had been an awkward teenager, big eyed, coltish, with an endearing childish charm. The woman who stood among the death eaters had nothing childish or awkward about her. She looked older than her 19 years. She had long waves of silver hair cascading down her shoulder to her hips. She had huge eyes, an unusual shade of deep purple, like heartsease in spring. Her body was every mans fantasy transmuted into reality. She was tall and graceful, with legs that seemed miles long. She had a smile that made even Harry's unsusceptible heart beat faster. She was dressed like the rest of them in the mandatory uniform of black robes, but even in that she looked devastating.  
  
Harry shook himself. He was on a mission and he had to remember that. He wondered again where Fawkes had disappeared. Just then, as if responding to his thoughts, the phoenix appeared. "Come with me," the voice of the bird whispered in his head. Then Harry remembered that he was still in the animagus form that he had adopted under the dire circumstances. He spread the wings and joined the bird in its flight. Surprisingly, he found that he could keep pace with Fawkes easily. This shocked him because he knew that phoenixes were very swift. He remembered being told that Merlin was a hawk and wondered whether he was a similar bird. However he concentrated on his flight, and decided to worry about the technicalities later.   
  
Very soon he found himself at the hotel where he knew the Quidditch team was staying. He wondered which room was his. He met Fawkes's eye and a telepathic message seemed to pass between them. Fawkes plunged down, and with a stretch of the massive wingspan Harry followed him. Fawkes finally stopped in front of a second floor room window and hovered there. Harry dove through the window and found himself in one of the finest rooms of the finest Wizard Hotel in France. He looked around and whistled to himself. It was a huge room enchanted to look like parts of Versailles. It had every convenience that Harry could think of at the spur of the moment. It also had a massive mirror. Harry's eyes glistened. Now he could see finally what animal he had turned into, under pressure. Vaguely he noticed that Fawkes had disappeared again, but he was too intent on his own newfound talent to give any thought to the phoenix. He headed towards the mirror. He positioned himself in front of it and was about to see what he had transformed into when…  
  
"Harry, Harry are you there?" It was Jackie knocking on his door. He couldn't let her see him in this state. Concentrating on his human form, Harry found that with a sudden pop he was back to his own body.   
  
"Come in, Jackie," he said with a cheeriness he did not even come close to feeling. "I am assuming you decided to take up my offer after all."  
  
"In your dreams, little man," said Jackie coming in. "I'm only here to tell you that tonight we are supposed to join the Quafflepunchers and some other Quidditch players for dinner. So do me a favor and behave yourself. Oh and look snazzy."  
  
Harry pouted, "Don't I always?" Then he added with a mischievous twinkle, "Unless of course you have fantasies of me in tight leather. In which case I'll try to accommodate you. Anything for my favorite captain."  
  
"Your only captain, little man. And you in leather is something I'd rather not think about."  
  
"Why? Does it get you too horny?"  
  
"Oh Harry, you are incorrigible. No it does not get me too horny, it gets me too nauseated. Now please try to behave as befits your status tonight. And be downstairs in an hour."  
  
Harry nodded. But as Jackie turned to leave, he could not resist a parting shot. "Oh Jackie, look out. You are starting to sound like a nursery governess. Behave yourself, act your age, remember your status. What next, Nanny?"  
  
Jackie rolled her eyes at him, but of course she had to have the last word and she snapped over her shoulder, "Only because you behave like a nursery brat, little man."  
  
With that she disappeared and Harry grinned. Then his smile gave way to a thoughtful expression, as he saw that there was no time to practice his animagus form if he wanted to be on time for the party. He quickly showered and slipped into dress robes of dark gray suede, draped a matching cloak over his broad shoulders and fastened it with an emerald pin. His hair fell over his eyes in a windblown disheveled style that made him look slightly younger and very charismatic. He glanced into the mirror before he left and was absolutely satisfied.  
  
He strode down the massive staircase and found Jackie waiting at the bottom for him dressed in aquamarine robes that matched her eyes. Her hair was brushed away from her face and she looked every inch the Captain of the best team in the League. He offered her his arm with a smirk that rather disrupted the dignified image she was trying to adopt. But composing herself and frowning at him, they walked into the ballroom.   
  
"This looks like something out of a wizards Who's Who." muttered Harry. "I mean everybody who is anybody in France is here."  
  
"What did you expect, Harry?" Jackie whispered back as she nodded pleasantly to Simone Mercier, the Seeker and Captain of the Quafflepunchers.   
  
Harry suddenly saw Hermione, resplendent in topaz colored robes, pleasantly talking to another player from the Quafflepunchers and made a beeline towards. He made polite excuses to the player and steered her away, talking softly but rapidly to her.   
  
He told her everything that had happened, whatever Pierre and Fleur had told him and his own sighting of Gabrielle. When he came to the part of his transformation he slowed down, stuttered and finally stopped.   
  
"So Harry, what did you turn into?" asked Hermione eagerly  
  
"That is the problem Herm, I don't know and I don't know if I can do it again."  
  
Hermione frowned. "You know Harry your problem is that you give up too easy. Remember the Patronus, remember the Summoning charm. All you need is a little practice. You'll do it again. Let's go and try it out right now."  
  
She didn't heed his weak protests and dragged him out of the room and into a small alcove. "Now I want you to concentrate."  
  
"I am concentrating, I am concentrating. Why does everyone persist on treating me like I'm four, instead of twenty-four? You are the second person today."  
  
"Because all too often you behave like you're four. Now concentrate."  
  
Harry's face contorted as he focused all his energy into changing. Suddenly he felt the pop that he felt every time he changed and knew that he was in his animagus form. Then he stopped short. But that was impossible. He could not feel his wings. He concentrated on turning human again, and with a pop resumed his own form. Then he looked at Hermione curiously, noting her pale face and widened eyes.   
  
"You know Herm, something very odd just happened…"  
  
Before he could continue, Hermione cut in. "I'll say. Harry, you just turned into a unicorn."   
  
I NEED A BETA READER. ANYONE INTERESTED, JUST MENTION IT IN THE REVIEW AND GIVE YOUR EMAIL ADD. I'LL GET IN TOUCH  
  
Thanks to  
Lynx: Glad you liked the story, and well as for the cliffie, it is a way of life  
  
Cecil: That is a great review, loads of constructive criticism and opinions. Do keep reviewing  
  
Sparkle: I am a majority kind of person, so let's just wait and see shall we.  
  
Miriam: You are my dream reviewer. You are detailed, you are constructive. Thanks for reviewing my other story by the way  
  
nerdlubber: Well let me put it this way. Ron and Herm liked each other in Hogwarts but nothing really came of it. However Harry thinks they are great for each other. Draco is in love with Hermione but she doesn't know and Harry isn't supposed to tell her.   
  
Marsisbrighttonight: You are one of the best reviewer I have had. I love long reviews and yours are so amazing. Please oh please keep reviewing. Don't worry this is never going to become a romantic chase because I am terrible with romance.   
  
Lighter Side of darkness: I'll try to give a H/g and Hr/D, but I can't make any promises at this stage. I'm leaving thisngs open. The characters are still being introduced. We'll come to the pairing later.  
  
Now people, people, I know there are great folks out there. I love you all and will love you even more if you review. Please review. 


	13. The ex-girlfriend

Disc: Oh I am actually the goddess Rowling writing the story under a nom de guerre, yeah as if. come on guys, you know how this one goes   
  
CHAPTER 12  
  
After staring incredulously at his friend for a few seconds, Harry burst out laughing. Hermione gazed at him askance as he rolled around on the floor chuckling. He managed to gasp out between wheezes, "Oh my god, Herm, me the symbol of chastity. I mean yeah sure I like virgins, but I think I like them for different reasons. Oh lord, what will Ron say when I tell him?? I am the sign of virtue. Can you imagine Witches Weekly getting their hands on this? The headline will read - Harry Potter, the heartbreaker and the jet-setting playboy of the Wizarding World has the animagus form of the icon of purity. That is a contradiction if I ever saw one. It is the funniest thing I have ever heard."  
  
Hermione saw the joke and allowed herself to crack a smile. Then on a more sober note she said, "But that is quite incredible. I can't think of any precedence. And you know I have researched deeply into animagii transformation."  
  
Harry finally managed to control his laughter and look at his friend. "Herm, I was about to tell you something. I have a double animagii shape. Didn't I tell you I had become a bird, that I flew back? Well, how could I have done that in the form of a unicorn?"  
  
Hermione bit her lip in consternation. "You couldn't have. I mean, unicorns have plenty of magical powers that we know nothing about, but I am sure that flying is not among them. Why don't you try to change into your other form?"  
  
Harry nodded still giggling at intervals. Then composing himself he closed his eyes again. He focused on the wonderful soaring feeling he had felt when he was flying and concentrated on it. But it was no use. Every time he transformed, it was into the unicorn. Finally after about the sixth try Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry Herm, but I don't think it is going to happen anytime soon."  
  
Hermione shrugged philosophically. "Oh well, you'll just have to keep trying. I don't think we should get this registered before we know your other animagii form."  
  
Harry looked revolted. "What do you want to get it registered for? Do you really want the world to know what I am? Where will be your precious element of surprise then?"   
  
Hermione nodded reluctantly. "You have a point Harry, but it goes against my grain to do anything that isn't quite legal."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, "Look at it this way, Herm. Doing what is right versus saving the world! I believe it is kind of obvious what wins. Now I believe we should go mingle. What will the world say when the find us in such a compromising situation? 'Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, Krum's girlfriend found making out during party. Rumored years ago to be a couple, maybe Rita Skeeter's prediction is coming true.' Absolutely world-class eye-catcher. Well, it is your reputation at stake."  
  
Hermione looked sternly at her best friend before stepping out. "Really Harry, you are becoming more and more like Lockhart everyday. Now you've started talking in headlines." Then, convinced that she had suppressed him sufficiently, she walked away.  
  
Harry shot back, "Well, I may become like him, but I was not in love with him." But by that time Hermione was out of earshot and Harry followed feeling his come back had fallen rather flat.   
  
Back at the party, Harry looked around the room for a familiar face. He spotted several, but was not inclined to make polite conversation with anyone of them. He was about to walk over to Simone and Jackie when suddenly he heard a squeal at the doorway, "Oh my god, Harry Potter!" He turned around and found a figure in silvery robes hurtle at him, and throw herself into his arms. He carefully detached himself and looked down into the laughing face of his ex-girlfriend, Blaise Zabini.   
  
"Lai, what are you doing here?" he asked smiling back at her. "Last time I saw you, you were smashing bludgers for the Catapults. Don't you have a game with the Arrows sometime soon?"  
  
Blaise shook her head, "Well I was, but then I was offered a position by the Quafflepunchers and I took it. I mean, I am half-French and the Quafflepunchers are rather good." Then she added in a whisper, "Also I have a bit of a crush on Michel LaGrange. He has the sweetest smile. But don't tell anyone."  
  
Harry shook his head indulgently. "Honestly Lai, you haven't changed one bit. You are still the impulsive madcap you used to be. Do you feel no guilt whatsoever in telling your ex-boyfriend about your latest amour?"  
  
She looked wickedly at him. "No, not at all. Just like you didn't feel guilty about dumping me ignominiously the minute the next good-looking girl came along. Don't you go all coy on me, Harry! You are the worst example of a loyal knight I have ever seen.   
  
Harry's shoulders shook with laughter. "Lai, you are incorrigible. You always could make me laugh. All right, I am no gallant knight and you're no shrinking violet. Shall we go get something to drink?"  
  
"Yes please." she said demurely, as Harry steered her over to the bar.  
  
Harry looked at the vivid face that came up to his chin and smiled reminiscently. He remembered the first time he had met her after Hogwarts. At school she had been a shy, retiring Slytherin who was ignored and snubbed by most people in her own house. She had been a brilliant student and later it was discovered that she was a wonderful beater, but she had never been given a chance because of her basic timidity. After graduation she had disappeared, not a very difficult thing since she had no close friends and very few acquaintances. Harry had barely noticed her in his seven years of sharing Potions and Care of Magical Creatures with her. He had vague memories of a slim girl with mousy hair and thick-rimmed spectacles who looked like she should have been in Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin. He never remembered her saying anything nasty or even cutting. She was just so self-effacing and diffident that she seemed invisible. That was why, when at a party during his first year as seeker, he was told that here was a fellow Hogwartian from his year, called Blaise Zabini, to keep him company he didn't immediately turn around. When he did he just stopped and stared. Blaise was stunning. He had seen and dated several beautiful girls in his time, but even compared to them Blaise was something else. Her features were regular, her hair a rich bronze - the true gold with a gleam of green, her eyes were the blue of a sapphire with the sheen of a diamond, but what really set her apart was her energy. She was the most vivacious, effervescent person he had ever met. When she came into a room she lit it up with her vibrant presence. They had spent the night talking and the next night doing everything but talking. A week later he had asked her to move in with him. She had become immediately popular with his friends, particularly the Weasely clan. Ron was so floored by her beauty that Lavender almost walked out on him, and Fred and George had found a prankster after their own hearts in her.   
  
They had been together for five months, the longest Harry had been with anybody after Cho and she was the only one of his girlfriends that he had kept in touch with after breaking up. They even slept together occasionally. He couldn't help it; her offbeat sense of humor and impetuous zaniness was irresistible. He was glad to see her at this party. She knew that she would liven it up. With a drink in hand they went to a corner of the room and settled down to talk.  
  
"So what has the great Harry Potter been doing lately?" she asked quirking one brow.  
  
Harry laughed ruefully, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."   
  
"Yes I would."  
  
"No you wouldn't."  
  
"Yes I would."  
  
"No you wouldn't."  
  
"Yes I would."   
  
"Trust me you wouldn't."  
  
"Yes I would, even if you told me that you were the Phoenix and the only savior of the Wizard World. Even if you told me that it was your duty to defeat the Circle, I would believe you."  
  
Harry gasped. "How did you know?"   
  
  
Now here is an ultimatum - you don't review I don't post. Kapish? 3reviews for one chapter. ouch!   
  
Thanks to:  
Magicalmischeifmaker: Thanks for the review and the pep talk  
Darla Ngheim: Thanks for the review and yeah I'd love some help. also I read your stories, namely hero and unexpected love, and they were great.  
Anja: Thanks for the offer and the review. 


	14. The Message

CHAPTER 13  
  
Blaise grinned. "Well, that's for me to know and you to find out." She said cheekily.  
  
"Lai, don't kid around with me. This is serious."  
  
"No." said Blaise pointing calmly. "That is Sirius"  
  
Harry was on his feet in a minute. "Sirius Black! Arabella Black! What in the name of god are you doing here? This is a Quidditch Party for crying out loud."  
  
Sirius patted his godson on the head. "Relax Harry. We are here on duty rather than pleasure." He twinkled at Blaise. "Though, if Lai is agreeable we can combine the two." Arabella smacked him on the head and he continued on a soberer note. "Harry, we've been sent here to brief you. The Circle has disappeared. Malfoy told Dumbledore that in all probability he has come to France. If that is the case, then you'd better look out. If Malfoy is to be believed, this guy hates you. This is why, my dear Harry, four of the best Aurors in the business have been told to stick to you like leeches. Yours truly, of course, yours truly's loving wife and your ex-girlfriend and Quidditch player Blaise Zabini.  
  
"Blaise is an Auror?"  
  
"Not only is she an Auror, my dear godson, she is one of the best we have. And, you know Harry; we are trying to avoid suspicion. I am your godfather, Bella is my wife and Lai is an ex-girlfriend, who you're still very close to. We've come to see you play a Quidditch game. What could be more innocent than that?"   
  
"But that's only three. Who on earth is the fourth?"  
  
"Ah, the fly in the soup. Brace yourself Harry. Get ready to be presented to the fourth of your entourage, the famous and much beloved - Severus Snape."  
  
Harry made a face. "Dumbledore must be off his nut. He sent Snape to guard me?"  
  
"Well, seeing I've done that quite a few times without being asked, I may as well do it once more." Came a familiar acerbic voice. "Black, if you've quite finished being funny, perhaps you can give Harry the rest of the message."  
  
Sirius looked a trifle abashed. "Oh, can it Snape. I was going to tell him, but you interrupted me. Harry, Dumbledore also said something about your being privy to some information Cheval was to give you. He told us to tell you not to act on that information right now. There seems to be some hitch there. The hitch is the reason the Circle has come to France."  
  
Harry nodded, knowing that Hermione could be trusted to keep the facts about Gabrielle to herself. He turned to Snape again. "So Professor, how could your school spare you? Weren't they absolutely heartbroken?"  
  
"Taking a leaf from Black's book and trying to be funny, Potter? You know as well as I do that Durmstrang has holidays the same time as Hogwarts."  
  
Harry slapped himself lightly on the forehead. "Of course, Professor," he said with an exaggerated bow. "How could I forget?"  
  
"Well, from the memories I have of your potions exams, Potter, you could forget quite easily."  
  
"Though this meeting of old friends is touching, and the conversation is absolutely edifying, may I remind you that you are in a party, which is usually held in a public place and there are people with vested interests who could conceivably overhear us. And I know both of you. When you lose your temper, you'll say just about anything." said Arabella shortly.  
  
Harry looked at her penitently. "Sorry, Bella. Won't happen again."  
  
Snape nodded. "Yes, Potter and I aren't sworn enemies anymore. We just get on each others nerves. That, incidentally, goes for you too, Black." Sirius's marriage to Arabella had done a lot to improve relations between Snape and Sirius. Snape had always liked Arabella, and surprisingly enough, Arabella was extremely fond of him.   
  
The three older people walked off to talk to some other people, namely the head of the French Magical Games and Sports Ministry. Blaise and Harry were left alone again.  
  
Harry stared at her. "Why didn't you tell me that you were an Auror?"  
  
"Well, Harry, the same reason you weren't going to tell me that you were the Phoenix. When we are doing a job like ours, we have certain responsibilities. We have people to protect and walls to guard. We can't go around blabbering our identities to people. It's just not possible. You, of all people, should appreciate that."  
  
Harry looked suitably abashed. "I'm sorry, Lai. I was just a little hurt that you didn't trust me enough to tell me. But, of course you're right. You couldn't have told me."  
  
"Hell, Harry, if I could have, you'd have been the one person I would have told. You should know that. Anyway, now tell me, what is up with this Circle."  
  
Harry knew now that he could trust Blaise with everything, so for the second time that evening he repeated all that had happened to him before he reached France and after. Blaise listened with an expression of deep concentration on her face. When he finished, she sat back with a sigh. "That is odd, Harry. I mean, about the animagus. I am an animagus myself and I know for a fact that after the first time you transform, it's a cinch. You can do it instinctively. It's only the first time that's tough. Did you have any trouble transforming into the unicorn?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Not at all. You're right, after the initial transformation it was a piece of cake. Maybe I should ask Fawkes, but the damn bird keeps disappearing."  
  
"Talking about me, Harry Potter. That's not very nice. You shouldn't insult a poor innocent bird behind his back. Especially when he is trying his level best to save your worthless hide." Fawkes landed on Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Who are you calling worthless, anyway? Try and remember I am the savior of the world and try and give me some respect huh? And what do you mean, you are trying to save me?"  
  
"Well Harry, I followed that group of death eaters to their hideout and I saw the Circle. He has had a slight change in plans. Instead of killing Pierre Cheval, the newest target of the death eaters will be you.   
I've demanded, I've begged, do I have to grovel? Please review this damned story already.  
  
Thanks go to:  
Miriam: Thanks for your wonderful loong review. I love long reviews. Well about the romance, they are twenty four, it's kind of difficult not to have romance. But I'm terrible at fluff, so don't worry about that. Also the next chapter will have a lot of action. I love your idea about the animagus form and I'm going to use it. Thank you.  
  
Merlin's Wing: Thanks, keep reading  
  
Magicalmischeifmaker: Thanks a ton, I wish I could post more often, but I have exams so...  
  
Laurie Wood: Thanks  
  
ADJ: Well you'll see more of nice Draco real soon. and try guessing who the leader is.  
  
Darla Neighm: Oh Blaise is just a friend. She is a definite no no for romance. Just wanted to show that Slytherins can be nice and smart.  
  
Me: Well lucky you. 


	15. The Interview

CHAPTER 14  
  
Disc: If the characters belonged to me, I'd be rich. If I was rich, I'd have a life. If I had a life, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. So take a wild guess  
  
  
Three days had passed and Harry, Blaise and Sirius were sitting in Harry's room at the hotel, drinking coffee and talking. They had all fallen for French coffee in a big way and the cappuccino in the hotel was brewed to perfection. Arabella and Snape were on duty, taking rounds to keep a check on the safety of the hotel. Though Sirius was supposed to be paired with Snape, for the safety of both parties concerned, it had been decided that Snape should pair with Bella and Sirius with Blaise.   
  
"So, Harry I heard you saw Cho again." Said Sirius looking keenly at his godson.  
  
Harry nodded ruefully. "Too true, Sirius. She came to attend Terry and Padma Boot's funeral. Damn that woman. She broke my heart, walked out of my life and now at the most crucial juncture, I see her again. Anyway I'd rather not talk about it, if nobody minds."  
  
Blaise nodded acquiescingly. "Not a problem, Harry. Anyway, we have more important matters at hand. Saving your life, for example. Now do think back, who else could possibly have a grudge against you?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Every death eater ever, maybe. I mean, I did kill their beloved master, you know. Then there is Draco, but though he can't stand me, he wouldn't kill me. To rest of the Wizarding World, I am the damned 'Boy who lived'. They don't want to see me dead, as far as I can tell."   
  
Sirius shook his head. "I don't think it is one of the death eaters. If it were, the rest would know. When you've killed people together, a kind of bond gets created. That's how Snape and I can tolerate each other. It's odd. But, what puzzles me is why he hasn't shown hair or hide for three days. I would have thought the demands on his time would be sufficient to make him work with haste."  
  
"Not from what Draco says. According to our friend Malfoy, The Circle is a strategist. He is cautious, he is meticulous. He does not make hasty decisions. He, from all I hear, is just above average as a wizard, but a genius at tactics."   
  
"Do you think he knows that you are the Phoenix?" asked Sirius anxiously.  
  
"Impossible," Harry replied. "Only Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Draco and the four of you are aware of that. And I trust all of you, even Draco to keep quiet about it. After all, Dumbledore does vouch for him."   
  
"You know, I think we need Draco here. He knows more about the damned setup than any of us, and he is not stupid." Both Harry and Sirius groaned at this and Blaise continued with a quelling glance, "Look, I know Draco. We were in the same house for seven years. He may be a jerk, but he is honest and reasonably sincere. He owes Dumbledore a lot, and if Dumbledore does order him to help us, he will. Come on guys, admit we need someone with an inside knowledge. What's more he speaks French like a native."  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Sirius irritably.  
  
"Nothing," shot back Blaise. "I was just getting sick and tired of ferrying the four of you around."  
  
Harry looked contemplative for and then nodded decisively. "I'll mail Dumbledore right now. Blaise has a point. Draco's presence is a necessary evil."  
  
Sirius stared at both of them. "But what about the anonymity. How do we preserve the anonymity?"  
  
Harry gave a grin of pure pleasure. "I already thought of that. Snape is already here, isn't he? And that too, for the first time since he went to Russia. What's to stop his favorite student and protégé from coming over to France to pay him a visit?"  
  
Blaise laughed. "Harry, you are a genius. I adore you. Go write that damned letter at once." Harry wandered out, and the other two sat back to enjoy the quiet evening.  
  
Harry strolled into his room and was getting ready to write the letter, when a deferential voice spoke, seemingly from nowhere, "Mr. Potter, there is a gentleman here to see you. Should I send him up?"  
  
"Who is it?" asked Harry sharply.  
  
"He says his name is Colin Creevy. He is a photographer from the Daily Prophet and he'd like some shots with you."  
  
"Yes, certainly. Send him up." Said Harry, relaxing. A few minutes later he heard footsteps and after a cursory knock, Colin Creevy walked in. Colin had changed immeasurably from the mousy, tiny boy he had been. After his brothers death at Voldemorts hand he had turned a new leaf. The death of little Dennis Creevy only a few days before Harry had killed Voldemort had been the turning point of Colin's life. Self-confident, charming and handsome, he was Daily Prophet's star photographer and in his own way very popular with the women. But he seemed to be quite uninterested in any of them, except Ginny with whom he made one of the most dazzling teams in reporting history. He covered all the most prestigious events and Harry had noticed both Ginny and Colin present at the Quidditch match.  
  
Colin stretched out his hand and Harry took it. "Congratulations on your victory, Harry. You played superbly. But then you always do."  
  
"Thank you, Colin. You always did believe in me. So, what are you doing here? And why isn't Ginny with you?"  
  
"Well, this is purely a freelance photo-shoot I'm doing for Witches Weekly. They want you to grace the centerfold. Ginny is seeing Paris. She says she wants to write an article on why the City of Love is the City of Love"   
  
Harry grimaced. "Colin, must I pose? Witches Weekly is starting to get on my nerves."  
  
Colin laughed. "Mine too, Harry. But they are my bread and butter, seeing that the Prophet pays peanuts. So be a good boy and pose."   
  
Harry bowed his head resignedly. "If I have to, I will. But I swear Colin Creevy, I will make you personally answer all my fan-mail."  
  
Colin gave a slight smile. "I am more sympathetic with your fans than you are Harry. Remember, I used to be one of them. Now I have to send these photographs in soon, so get up and pose."  
  
Harry had done shoots like this almost every month, since he had become famous, and now it was almost second nature to him. He posed causally, talking to Colin at the same time. "Where are you and Ginny going next?"  
  
Colin looked at Harry through the lens. "A little to the right, Harry and smile some more. No, I'm planning to take a short vacation. I'm thinking of asking Ginny to join me. Perhaps a few more days in Paris, a short trip to Florence. I am not quite sure of my plans yet. Where are you playing next?"  
  
"Well, now that exhibition season is over, I am returning to England in a few more days to play for the qualifying matches for the League."  
  
"How much longer will you be here, then?"  
  
"Three days, maybe four. Not more than that."  
  
"I see. So I'll see you next in England."  
  
"Yeah, I guess so. Listen; take good care of Gin for me. I'm very fond of her. She is like the younger sister I never had."  
  
"Is she? Well, yeah sure I will, but Ginny is quite capable of taking care of herself."  
  
"I guess growing up with six elder brothers toughens you up. Particularly if two of them are Fred and George."  
  
"I think there is more to it than that. Anyway, I'm done, so I'll be off. Take care, Harry. Bye." With that breezy farewell, Colin was off, leaving Harry standing alone in the middle of the room. Suddenly the voice came again, agitated and anxious this time.   
  
"Mr. Potter, there are some more men here to see you. They wouldn't let me announce them. They seem to be in a hurry, sir. Should I send security?"  
  
"No, don't send security." Said Harry swiftly. He stepped over to the fire and murmured Room No. 7. "Blaise, Sirius, get Bella and Snape and come down to my room fast. Some mysterious men are on their way up. I can protect myself for a while, but I don't now how long. Try and hurry." Then he moved away from the fire, as the door swung open.   
  
HELLO EVERYBODY, REVIEW ALREADY, OK!!! PLEASE!  
  
Thanks go to:  
Lavender James: Thank you. Do keep reading  
  
Ice BlueX: Glad you liked it. and yes Harry does have a bit of an ego, but he earned it.  
  
Seekerpeeker: Thanks for both reviews, but this story is going to gone on for atleast 30 chapters, so if you're in a hurry, too bad. As for the villain, wait and see.  
  
Neesh: That's a real compliment. If anybody who doesn't usually read these, reviews I love it.  
  
Crimson: Thanks, and the next chapter will be up tomorrow. 


	16. The Kidnapping

CHAPTER 15  
  
Disc: I'm tired of writing disclaimers. You know how it goes. I don't own anything yada yada yada.  
  
  
"Harry Potter, so we meet again." Said the leader of the six men, standing at the door.  
  
"Yes, and here was I just thinking, whatever happened to old Lucius? You did rather drop away from the scene, you know. But, well, well, old friends together again." Said Harry with a cool insolence that he didn't even come close to feeling.  
  
"As cocksure and arrogant as ever, aren't you? Well, not for much longer, Harry Potter. My master has no intention of keeping you alive, but before you die he will torture you. He will break your pride. Then he will kill you. You will die the death of a dog."  
  
"Now, why does that sound familiar? Hmm, could it be because I heard that very threat repeated every year by you, or by some death eater or the other? Such posturing stopped impressing me somewhere around the second time. So I see you have shifted your allegiance rather quickly, haven't you? It hasn't even been seven years since I defeated your Dark Lord. Don't you ever learn your lesson?"  
  
"Whelp, do not talk about things you do not understand. The Dark side offers more than you can possibly imagine."  
  
"Really? Let me guess. The minute you agree to become a member you get the privilege of using all possible dark facilities to assassinate, torture, pillage and persecute whomsoever you wish. Added to that, you qualify for special benefits such as your own staff of personal, no-good minions. And if that doesn't satisfy you, you also get a certificate for framing, a free magic ring and much, much more. Sounds like a charming offer. But I have to refuse. Earlier commitments, you see."  
  
"You scoff, but not for much longer. You are ignorant of the power of the dark side."(Forgive me, George Lucas)  
  
Harry was now beginning to get nervous. Blaise and Sirius should have reached his room by this time. But he played for time by continuing on the light mocking vein he had chosen. "Can you tell me why you dark wizards have such a limited vocabulary? I mean, every line ends with something morbid, or at the very least something threatening. Lighten up, already." Mentally he added, "Blaise, Sirius, for gods sake hurry up."  
  
As if reading his mind, Lucius smoothly said, "Wondering about your little friends - Black, Bella and that backstabber Snape? To think I was once a friend of his! Well, they aren't coming to help you. You seriously think that we would come unprepared? We are wicked, not stupid. They are already in our custody. But we will leave them here. They can be testimony to the inefficiency of the aurors in this country."   
  
"Yes, inefficient when faced by what odds?" snapped Harry furiously, dropping his studied nonchalance for a much more realistic anger. "Too cowardly to ever play fair, aren't you? Voldemort had his faults, but even he was brave enough to challenge me to a duel, rather than this craven attempt to capture me. Go back to your precious new leader, and tell him to come get me himself. That is, of course, if he dares."  
  
"I have a better idea." Said Lucius affably. "Why don't we take you to him and let you tell him yourself? Saves us all a lot of trouble don't you think?"   
  
"Try." Said Harry curtly.  
  
"With pleasure." Said Lucius lifting his wand up, but before he could say a single word, Harry's arm shot up and he murmured, "Accio." Lucius's wand shot out of his hand and into Harry's.  
  
The other death eaters raised their wands too, but Harry was too fast for them. With the reflexes, honed from his Quidditch games, he dodged the 'Stupefy' and 'Impedimenta' curses aimed at him. He dove behind a chair and using Lucius's wand, he shot a spell at one of them. The man fell level to the ground, with the full body bind leaving him incapable of both speech and movement. The other four, Harry dealt with speedily shooting curse after curse at lightning speed at them. "Expelliarmus, Stupefy and Impedimenta" were used in quick succession on both sides. But none of the death eaters were of high caliber. Fleetingly, almost regretfully, Harry thought of wizards like Avery who had really tested his mettle. These were not real death eaters. They were only youngsters, maybe his own age, maybe younger, who had been tempted by the grandeur of darkness. Finally there was only Lucius and Harry left standing.   
  
"So, Lucius, run out of incompetent lackeys?"  
  
"Give me my wand, Potter, and then fight like a man." Spat Lucius.  
  
Harry twirled the wand casually. "Why should I? You wouldn't have done the same for me. You know Lucius, every time I see you; I wonder why I ever disliked Draco. You make him look like an angel of mercy in comparison."  
  
Lucius gave an unpleasant laugh. "You will give me the wand simple because you prefer to play fair, and you couldn't live with yourself if you didn't. You'll feel guilty, and that isn't something you fools like feeling. You are a Gryffindor, Harry Potter and that is what Gryffindors do."  
  
"This extraordinary confidence in us Gryffindors is touching, Lucius. It really is. Oh, you might be surprised at how un-Gryffindor- like I can be. I mean, it is just about as hackneyed as the myth that all Slytherins are cunning and intelligent. Well, I assure you, Lucius, there have been Gryffindors who are cowards and Slytherins who are stupid and timid. But I am neither and I will return you your wand, because I hate to sink to your level." Harry tossed the wand to Lucius. "Here you are, Lucius. Play fair now."  
  
Lucius lifted his wand, but instead of shouting a curse, he shouted 'Morsmordre Vocalitus.' A giant skull rose out of his wand and began to shriek. A horrible skirling sound that seemed to penetrate the walls and permeate the room. Next thing Harry knew, what seemed like, dozens of death eaters flooded into the room. Harry braced himself against the wall for a fight. It seemed like a hundred voices were throwing curses at him. He held his own for a while and finally discarded his wand and used the wandless magic that suddenly seemed to come with unexpected ease to him. Several death eaters fell back before the barrage of curses that were showered at them by a wizard more powerful than any they had ever encountered before. But even power does not mean invincibility, and sheer number can defeat even the Phoenix. A well-placed 'Stupefy' curse hit Harry squarely on the chest and the world descended into darkness. His last thought before he fell senseless to the ground was one of relief - they don't know about Blaise.   
  
One review. I get one review. Thank you everybody!!! Thank you so much. Am I being sarcastic? Well go figure. I have the next two chapters written where Harry meets the Circle and has some Gabrielle Delacour, but not a sniff does anyone get, unless I have a respectable no. of reviews.  
  
Thanks: Princess Nikki, I'm glad you liked it.   
  
AND BY THE WAY, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW MY OTHER FIC, 'SOME MOTHERS SON'. I THINK IT'S REALY DIFFERENT 


	17. The Prisoner

CHAPTER 16  
  
Disc: Oh well, I'm running out of original disclaimers so imagine your own, ok?  
  
When Harry's eyes fluttered open, he found himself lying prostrate on a hard stony floor. He discovered he had an intolerable headache and his eyes were having trouble focusing. He lifted himself cautiously on one elbow and carefully checked to see if he was still intact and functional. He found he was, and he judiciously raised himself to a sitting position. He looked around and found that he was in the kind of dungeon that dark wizards delighted in. The small cell was murky and gloomy, with not even a single ray of sunlight to leaven the darkness. He groaned. How could he have been foolish enough to give Lucius back his wand? As if in reply to his groan, a figure appeared from the shadows. A silky, fluid voice said, "You are awake, Harry Potter."  
  
Harry's eyes were rapidly adjusting to the darkness and he squinted up at the shape that stood above him. As his sight cleared, he almost let out a gasp of surprise. But he stopped himself just in time, and said with admirable restrain, "Gabrielle Delacour. You are the last person I expected to see here." He did not want her to know that he had been assigned to shadow her and establish her guilt, at least not yet.  
  
The slim figure dropped on one knee beside him and felt his forehead with a cool hand. "How are you, Harry Potter?" she said, calmly disregarding his statement. "You hit your head rather hard when you fell. I think you were concussed. You have been unconscious for almost three days."  
  
Harry's eyes widened. Three days wasted. All the time he could have spent searching for a way to escape, he had spent insensible in a chamber. He could have kicked himself, but his head was hurting too much and all he could do was sit back weakly, and croak out, "Water."  
  
She got up from his side and moved to a ledge nearby. He followed her with his eyes, and tried to get up. The world swam and he collapsed back, everything going black again. Through a cloud he felt strong, slender arms lift him up, and press a glass to his lips. His eyes focused again and this time he found that exquisite face very close to his own, too close for his own comfort. As if aware of his discomfort, she moved away, and he lay down carefully.   
  
"Where am I?" he asked feebly. "Am I still in Paris?"  
  
"Yes, you are. Well, you're a few miles out of Paris as a matter of fact. It is an out of the way fortress, un-plottable on any map.  
  
"I see and from the memories I seem to have, I guess I'm a prisoner of the Circle, aren't I?   
  
"Yes, you are, and you must be wondering what I'm doing here." She said softly.  
  
"You read my mind." He replied, glad at not having to lie. He did wonder why a person like her had chosen to serve the Circle.   
  
She looked at him for a second and then looked away, her wonderful eyes showing pain. "You wouldn't understand." She whispered.  
  
"Try me." he replied just as softly.  
  
"Do you know what it's like always being considered inferior? Do you know what it's like to have people forming opinions just because of the way you look, because of what you are? Do you know what it's like being ostracized because you happen to be misunderstood? Do you?" she said in an agonized burst.   
  
Harry felt for a second that he was looking at the little girl he had pulled out of the water ten years ago. He touched her arm and said gently, "But of course I do."  
  
Her eyes shot up towards his face and she seemed to be about to speak, when the door swung open and Lucius Malfoy walked in, with a self-satisfied smirk. Gabrielle leaped away, and stood proudly at one end of the room.   
  
"Is the prisoner awake? The master will see him now."  
  
"See for yourself." Replied Gabrielle with a slight nod of her silvery head. Lucius looked at Harry and found him staring contemplatively at the wall. As Lucius approached him, Harry looked up.  
  
"Well, if it isn't my lying friend again. What now? The rack perhaps, the iron maiden or some new form of torture you've invented all on your own."   
  
"The Circle wants to see you, Harry Potter. Try holding your insolent tongue around him. He isn't as tolerant as I am."  
  
Harry was pulled roughly to his feet. Still weak, Harry stumbled and staggered. Two death eaters supported him as he made his lurching way to the Great Hall, where the Circle held his meetings. He was thrown down on the cobbled floor where he lay for a few seconds gathering his strength. Even as he lay there, he heard footsteps echoing down the corridor and the Circle swept into the room.  
  
Even in his dazed state, Harry was aware of the remarkably powerful presence of the Wizard. He seemed to possess an aura, which seemed to pervade the room. Harry was forced to admit that this man had something that Voldemort had lacked. Harry wondered what it was.  
  
Then he spoke. "Harry Potter, lying helpless at my feet. Lying bound, weak and pathetic. Oh, the poor, little celebrity! Tell me, my death eaters, what shall we do with him?" Harry recoiled involuntarily from the venom in his voice. It was hate, hate and anger that dripped from every word that The Circle spoke. The death eaters laughed, as if it was a great joke. The Circle walked towards him, cupped his face, and looked into his eyes. He felt the eyes behind the mask burning into him. His scar ached agonizingly. Then the gaze left him and the Circle turned away.  
  
"We shall do nothing… for now." He said in a weary tone. "Let him vegetate in his cell for the time being. Gabrielle Delacour has volunteered to guard him. I don't want any harm to come to him. Not until I order it. Does everyone understand that? If any death eater here disagrees with me, let him speak now." It was proof of the power of the man, that every single death eater obeyed unquestioningly. "Then let us move on to other orders of business."  
  
As The Circle spoke, Harry observed him from his vantage point on the floor. Draco was more or less right in the description. He was tall, perhaps an inch or two taller than Harry, powerfully built, with an agile, graceful walk. Also, he was most definitely English. There was no doubt about that. He was obviously exceptionally intelligent, but more importantly he was a natural leader.   
  
Suddenly he seemed to remember that Harry was in the room. "Take the prisoner back to his cell immediately." He ordered peremptorily. "See to it that he is fed and given some clothes to wear instead of those rags." He continued sardonically, "After all, we should show our VIP guest what courteous people we Death Eaters can be, when we aren't killing people. Shouldn't we?"  
  
The death eaters laughed dutifully and Harry was led out. He was taken back to his cell and left there to ruminate on his thoughts. Even Gabrielle wasn't there to talk to. Suddenly he felt very lonely. He wondered what Ron, Hermione, Sirius were doing and how anxious they were. He knew this was the result of his concussion, because he was still feeling very dizzy and ill. He felt a wave of nausea come over him and was violently sick in a nearby coalscuttle. Feeling absolutely drained, he lay back to catch up on his sleep, when a thought rushed unbidden to his head. The Circle sounded very familiar. The accent, the pronunciation, all of it was very familiar. Even the way he said Harry was familiar. He tried to remember where he had heard the voice before, but somehow it kept evading him. His head was still pounding and despite constant efforts he could not get himself to remember. Eventually he fell off to sleep.   
  
Yay, eleven reviews. Thank you, oh thank you and do review again. I thrive on reviews.  
  
Thanks go to:  
  
Miriam: Thanks for reviewing. You have no idea what a pleasure it is to have a reviewer like you. I'm glad you liked the last chapter, and I promise lots more action in the very near future.  
  
Magicalmischiefmaker: Thanks for reviewing again. Hope you prefer this chapter. As for the circle, Well, keep reading.  
  
Goldenstar555: Thanks. Keep reviewing, do.  
  
Sarah: Thanks for the review. You are perfectly right, I was desperate for feedback and I'm glad you gave some. Harry is different, but with reason. People change a lot in ten years, after all. As for the pairing, I haven't decided anything yet, but there is some more Ginny in the next chapter.  
  
Sara Ane Yun: I agree. Boohoo. I'm desolated. Anyway, thanks for the review and I'll see about the pairing. There is going to be atleast eight to ten more chapters, if not more, so I can develop something.  
  
Yurvin: Thanks so much. Here is some Gabrielle  
  
Darla Neighm: More Cho coming up, but sadly, popular demand seems to veer against her. But I am planning to start a prequel to this about Harry's seventh year defeat of Voldemort, and that will have Cho, do wait for that.  
  
Christy: Thanks. Keep saying that. It's heart warming. 


	18. The Meeting

CHAPTER 17  
  
Disc: Nothing belongs to me, but you know that, don't you?  
  
I'm so sorry for the late post, but I have my school leaving exams, so the updates will be a lot slower hereon.  
  
  
"How could you let him go alone? I thought I could trust the four of you to keep a capable eye on him. Don't you have any common sense whatsoever?" raged Hermione, pacing like a caged tiger, up and down the hotel room in Paris.  
  
Nettled, Sirius snapped back, "Well, at least we stayed here to protect him. We didn't go waltzing off to Penzance with dear, darling Vic for a romantic weekend rendezvous."  
  
"Oh, don't try to shift the blame. You know as well as I do that there is no excuse for incompetence."  
  
"Incompetence?? Excuse me, I don't think being stunned and bound by the overwhelming odds of 3 to 20 is known as incompetence."  
  
"Oh yes, and why were the three of you caught, and not Blaise?"  
  
Blaise stepped forward. "I'll answer that, Sirius. When Harry's message came, Sirius and I decided to split up to look for Bella and Snape. He found them, but the death eaters found him. I saw them being taken and decided that I would be more useful, if I wasn't caught. So I hid until the death eaters left, and then untied them."  
  
"So, basically you acted like a coward, and let Harry be taken." Said Hermione waspishly.  
  
"That will be enough, Herm." Exploded Ron, bringing his hands down on the table loudly. "I don't want to hear another word from any of you. Look at you, making excuses, leveling accusations, behaving like children. Right now our single point agenda should be saving Harry. But if anything happens to him, we will all be responsible for it."  
  
Sirius and Hermione shot apologizing glances at each other, and sat down at the table again. Ron continued, "What can possibly be taking Dumbledore so long? Snape left to brief him almost three hours ago. They should have returned by now. We need to know what we are going to do now."  
  
"I'm here." The door opened and Dumbledore strode in, followed by Snape and Draco Malfoy, who looked even paler than usual. "The meeting of the Council shall now proceed." He seated himself at the head of the table, and the other seven arranged themselves, according to seniority. "Now I want to hear about everything that has happened since you came here."  
  
Hermione began, telling Dumbledore about Harry's meeting with Pierre Cheval, and then the encounter with Fleur Delacour. As she came to the attack by the Death eaters, Snape cut in. "This was before the Circle arrived in France, wasn't it? Then how did they know that he was going to be there?"  
  
Sirius looked intrigued. "You know, Snape, I hate to say this, but you may have a point. They knew he was there, they knew he was here. The hotel is un-plottable. It is almost impossible to find, unless someone on the inside tips you off."  
  
"Or," said Hermione excitedly, "If there was a tracing device on Harry."   
  
"You have a point Herm, but is it practically possible." Asked Ron.  
  
"Easy as cake, if you know the right technique. Remember the four-point spell? Well, with some simple variations, that can apply to people. Isn't that the spell that the Marauders put on the map?"  
  
Sirius nodded. "Yes, we did use a simplified version. We got Remus to do it for us. He was always very good with plotting spells."  
  
Hermione's face fell. "Well we know how they did it, but how does it help us?"  
  
Ron shot her an exasperated glance. "Honestly, Herm, for a really smart witch, you can act terribly dumb sometimes. Sirius, get Remus on the Floo network right now. Ask him if there is any way we can intercept the tracing spell. If he can think of anything, ask him to get down here at once. Don't tell him why. We can't afford to have the conversation overheard. If the word gets out that Harry is missing, we are going to have big trouble on our hands."  
  
Sirius nodded. "I'm on it."  
  
As Sirius left the room, Draco spoke for the first time since he had entered the room. "Well, I think that the assumption that there was a tracking spell on him is a safe one. But the question that should really bother us is, how was it cast on him, or rather who cast it on him?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "It couldn't have happened on its own. I am afraid Draco may have a point. There has to be a traitor in the league."  
  
"Yeah, him." said Ron softly, but Dumbledore overheard.  
  
"Draco has been a valuable ally in our fight against the Dark Forces, Mr. Weasely, and I trust him implicitly. Now I would be grateful if you could forget your differences and concentrate on the problem at hand."  
  
Ron and Draco glowered at each other, reminding Hermione irresistibly of the animosity between Sirius and Snape in their fourth year. Dumbledore looked at her seriously, "Hermione, you must go talk to the Coven of Guardians. I would go myself, but I feel my place is here. Tell them that the Phoenix is missing, and that we can't find Fawkes either. Ask them for their help, and come back here as fast as you can." Hermione nodded and walked out. Her exit was closely followed by Sirius's entry, with Remus by his side.  
  
"Ah, Remus, you are here. I'm assuming Sirius has briefed you about the situation we have here?" As Remus replied with a gesture of acquiescence, Dumbledore continued, "So what is the feedback that you can give us?"  
  
Remus frowned. "Professor, there are only three spells which would have been successful in the kind of tracking that would be necessary for this kind of systematic pursuit. There is the Locatus spell, which we used on the Marauders Map. It is the most basic of the plotting spells and also the easiest to intercept. It can be tracked down by a simple Reversal spell, which would lead to an inversion of the circumstances of plotting and would lead us directly to him. The other two, I am afraid, are a lot more difficult to handle. There is the Magnetus spell, which draws them towards his location, rather than telling them where he is. That can be intercepted by a very complicated spell. It's a spell called the Analogum." He looked at the blank faces surrounding him, and continued, "It is a very rare spell, that I unearthed during my travels in Communist Russia where the military police used it to track down defecting wizards. It creates a parallel situation where we would be drawn to him as well. It is very advanced magic, because it has to counteract a powerful spell. The third is impossible to intercept, but I doubt if it's been used. My guess would be the Magnetus spell, since the hotel is unplottable, a spell of attraction is needed rather than a visual spell."  
  
Ron nodded. "All right, Remus, teach us the Analogum. Let's nail those bastards."  
  
Draco sneered. "Honestly, Weasely, you have no more brains then you did in school. Didn't you hear the man say that it's complicated? I've heard of the Analogum. There is something about the conditions being propitious. Isn't there?"  
  
Remus nodded. "I'm afraid he's right, Ron. The conditions have to be as similar as possible. Time, position of the moon, day of the month, the works. The closer the situation, the more powerful the attraction."  
  
Ron looked askance. "Are you telling me that we can't find him until everything falls into place?"  
  
"That's exactly what he's telling you, Weasely." Ron turned on Draco with a snarl, but before he could say anything, Hermione burst in.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore, the Guardians have been disbanded. There was a Death Eater attack on their headquarters and many of them were killed."   
  
Please Review. I need reviews.  
  
Thanks go to:  
Unclee88  
  
Christy   
  
Zhlythee   
  
Darla Neighm: No, Cho isn't going to be evil. That I can guarantee you.  
  
Justin: More Cho coming  
  
Jimbo: I'll think about a Gabrielle/ Harry relationship. I don't know where this story is going, so bear with me  
  
Yurvin: Thanks, you'll have to see about the re;ationship. see above comment.  
  
Magicalmischeifmaker: Glad you like it, and wait and watch  
  
Sarah: Yeah it is taking forever and I apologize abjectly.(hangs head, and looks foolish), I can't even say the rest will be up fast, so sorry again. About Gabrielle, I just don't know yet. 


	19. The Scoop

CHAPTER 18  
  
At last! My exams are over and I can go back to living my own life. Well, a lot of people have asked for some Ginny in my story so this is for them, and she'll appear more hereon.  
  
Disc: I'm a poor ex-high school student, who isn't even in college yet. Don't sue me. I own nothing except Ray Ernest(who incidentally I rather like).   
  
Ginny Weasely leafed through the photographs and then looked at her colleague with awe. "Colin, you have outdone yourself. These are wonderful. Don't give them to Witches Weekly. It really is prostitution of art."  
  
Colin smiled at her. "Sorry Gin, I'm no Van Gogh, I have to pay my rent and I'm not cutting off my ears."  
  
Ginny laughed. "Well, at the very least let me write a story to go with it. They are inspirational. Particularly this one." She held up a photograph in which Harry was posed on the balcony of his hotel room, leaning on the balustrade, head thrown back, eyes alight, lips curved in a gentle smile. A geranium rested by his cheek "This one is just beautiful. The light, the expression, the colors. They are just perfect. Come on Colin darling, let my fickle bitch of a muse get to work and I'll write you an article that any magazine will pay quantities for. Or you could take some more photographs and we could write a book on Harry. Harry Potter - Up Close and Personal. We'd rake in big bucks. Let me in on this, sweetheart."  
  
Colin shook his head. "Gin, are you never going to get over him?"  
  
Ginny blushed, "Is it that obvious?" Colin nodded and she continued flippantly, "Well, I suppose it is better to have loved and never got than never to have loved at all. Come on Colin, we have a newspaper to write for."  
  
Colin stood his ground. "You're not getting out of this so easily, Virginia Mary Weasely. You know I'm in love with you, that I've loved you since our first year in Hogwarts when you used to help me in charms. I'm not going to stand here and let Harry Potter walk roughshod over you. You deserve better than that."  
  
A dangerous sparkle came into Ginny's eyes; a sparkle any Weasely could have told Colin was an ominous sign. Ginny was the sweetest tempered of the fiery family, but when she did get angry, she was frightening. But she spoke in a calm voice, "Colin, let me remind you, Primo I haven't spent my life moping over Harry Potter. Secundo, he has never even hinted that he cares for me in any way except as a friend. So you can't blame him for leading me on. Tertio, even if Harry wasn't on the scene at all I wouldn't be in the least interested in you romantically. So stop acting like a complete prick."  
  
She was about to make a dignified exit when a head appeared in the fireplace. "Miss Weasely, you are being recalled to England immediately by Mr. Ernest. He says it's urgent."   
  
She nodded. "Alright Janet. Tell him I'll be there immediately." The head disappeared and she looked at Colin. "I don't want you to make anymore advances to me Colin. I'd hate to lose my best friend, but if you don't act more appropriately I will ask to be reassigned to another photographer."   
She stalked out to where the proprietor of the hotel stood deferentially waiting for her. Colin followed her, but stopped at an almost imperceptible shake of her head. "Colin, he only asked for me. If I need you, I'll let you know." She took the proffered portkey and after a few seconds felt the tug at her navel. Before she knew it, she was standing in the lobby of the Daily Prophet office. A harassed looking receptionist ran up to her gratefully.   
  
"What is it, Linda?" said Ginny with a smile.  
  
"Oh Miss Weasely, Mr. Ernest is in one of his moods. Nothing pleases him, tantrums all over the place. Why he even threw the coffee pot at Alan's head. You're the only one who can handle him when he's like this."  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh Lord, I hate Ray when he's like this. Go on Linda, there's no need to announce me. I'll just go in myself." Ginny marched to the door, which said in bold flourishing letters 'RAYMOND ERNEST - Editor In Chief' and without knocking walked in. The chair swiveled around and Ginny's employer looked up at her.  
  
Raymond Ernest was the first name in the wizard media. He was a self made man, a muggleborn who had made it up to the top purely on merit. He had a first-class brain, an intuitive knowledge of what the masses needed to hear and a 'nose for news.' At 5'7, a good three inches shorter than Ginny, he had a slim wiry body, shoulder length black hair, scraped into a ponytail, penetrating light gray eyes behind gold-framed spectacles and a goatee. He was dressed casually in black pants, a white T-shirt and a beige blazer. Even though he was unprepossessing in appearance, he was magnetic and dynamic. He also had an Italian accent which he said was due to the fact that his family name was originally Ernesto when they had emigrated from Italy. He was irascible, obsessive and a manic perfectionist, but Ginny had always liked him and they had a very cordial relationship.  
  
"Virginia, what took you so long to get here? When I say it's urgent, don't you know I expect you to come at once?"  
  
Ginny knew how to handle Raymond. She coolly replied, "I did come at once, Ray. What seems to be the problem?"  
  
Raymond Ernesto usually liked to beat around the bush a little, but this time he got straight to the point. "Death Eater Attack in North England, Ginny. I want you down there immediately. See what you can find out and report to me at once."  
  
Ginny's brows furrowed. "Death Eater Attacks happen all the time Ray. You've never reacted like this before. What's up?"  
  
Her editor's lips tightened. "A little birdie tells me, my dear Virginia that this particular attack was on the Atlantis. That's where the Coven of the Guardians meet."  
  
Ginny's eyebrows shot up. Though most people were unaware of the existence of the Coven of the Guardians, she had come up against them once in the early years of her career. As far as she knew, nobody else in the media world knew about them. "So that's why you asked for me and told me to leave Colin behind."  
  
"Exactly, bright child" said Raymond sharply. "Now get moving. I want you at the scene of the crime as fast as possible before the crowds start flocking. You can apparate there, can't you?" Finding that Ginny was treating the question with the scorn it deserved, he continued, "If you find anything, bring it to me directly. It must be very judiciously handled. You understand?"   
  
Ginny nodded. "I'm on it, boss. The minute I find something, I'll come straight down."  
  
"Even to my house, if necessary."  
  
Ginny looked astonished. Raymond Ernest ordinarily took the old 'An Englishman's house is his castle' adage a little too literally. He was reclusive to a fault and no one had ever seen his house. This story really did mean a lot to him then. She made a weak gesture of acquiescence and waving goodbye stepped out of his room. She stood in front of his door wondering whether she should inform Colin of her latest assignment, but deciding against it she made up her mind to head straight for 'Atlantis,' the hidden building that housed the Guardians.  
  
Though Ginny wasn't particularly fond of apparition, she had been severely grounded in it by Percy, and with a little effort she found herself at the gates of Atlantis. She gasped as she looked at it. The last time she had seen it had been when she was nineteen and it had been an imposing building of white marble. It had a magnificent rose garden, a massive annex which housed the library and some exquisite pieces of Greco-Roman statuary. Now the place lay in shambles. The green skull floated above it. The rose garden was destroyed, the library had been burnt, and the building itself seemed to have been ransacked. She pushed the door opened and recoiled in horror. In her five years as a journalist, she had seen a lot of frightful things - tortures, murders, rapes; but the sheer brutality of this was like a physical blow. People lay dead all around, some killed mercifully with the Avada Kedavra curse, others disemboweled, yet others left to slowly bleed to death with an anti-coagulant spell. It was an act of wanton cruelty. Suddenly she heard voices and pulled her invisibility cloak around her shoulders. No one was supposed to be here. No one was supposed to know. She knew and respected Ray's news nosing capabilities. If he said he was the first to know, then he was. In that case whose voices was she hearing? Three figures rounded the corner. To her surprise she found it was Dumbledore, Sirius Black and Hermione Granger.  
  
Thanks to:  
  
MIRIAM: I had to write this in caps. Your reviews are so helpful and your mails have been incredibly supportive. Thanks for everything. And as for Ron taking on the responsibility, it's because he's always had it in him, but was never able to show it thanks to so many elder brothers and Harry. Away from their shadow he's blossomed.  
  
Dede: Here is the next chapter, and I am sorry it took so long. But life's a pain sometimes  
  
Goldenstar: Thanks   
  
Sarah: You bet it's a pain. And don't worry. Harry and Gabrielle, it's just not on the cards.  
  
  
Leda: You'll see Harry in the next chapter. I promise you that.  
  
Pnutball: Now I'm blushing. Thanks a ton  
  
Yurvin: Hey constructive criticism is always good. And I know I need it, so just keep reviewing and I'll be grateful. 


	20. Revelation

CHAPTER 19  
  
Well, I pride myself that this chapter ends on a really surprising note. Anyway, the reviewer is the judge and I await the verdict. Read on.  
  
Hermione shook herself. She had an uncanny feeling that someone was watching them as they picked their way through the welter of bodies. She knew that it was her imagination. No death eater would stick around this long. The risk was too great. People would start arriving any minute. Luckily there hadn't been the chance for the news to leak out. If she hadn't come to deliver the news about Harry to them, she wouldn't have known either. A suddenly disquieting thought came to her. If Harry hadn't disappeared, then Dumbledore and she would both have been present at the meeting. In that case in all probability they would be… she shuddered and Sirius put a fatherly arm around her shoulders. Dumbledore went from person to person, checking to see if any of them were alive. Finally he stood up and shook his head. "Not a single one left alive."  
  
Hermione gave him an anguished look. "But Professor, how? These wizards were some of the most powerful ones alive. Why weren't they able to defend themselves?"  
  
Dumbledore bowed his head. "They were unprepared, Hermione and they were old. They hadn't fought for a long time and they weren't equipped to handle the sort of concentrated attack that the Circle seems to be able to organize even in absentia. See, some of them couldn't even get to their wands. There were only 30 of them and there must have been at least a hundred death eaters. The number of people the dark side attracts never ceases to surprise me. But what I would like to know is…" Before he could finish his sentence, the air was punctuated by a groan. Spinning around faster than Sirius would have thought possible by a man his age, Dumbledore strode in the general direction of the groan leaving Hermione and Sirius to follow. When they caught him up, they found him kneeling over a body they immediately recognized as Alastor Moody's.   
  
"Alastor, what happened here?" asked Sirius urgently.  
  
Alastor Moody gave a twisted half smile. "The bastards finally got us, Albus. I don't know how they found us, but they got us. We were summoned to the meeting. We got here and the meeting was proceeding as normal when suddenly the roof was blasted through. I had my wand with me, but most of the others were careless, overconfident. They left their wands outside. The death eaters came in like a drove of wasps. They were led by McNair and Amy Lestrange. I recognized the voices. All of us fought as hard as we could. Obviously it wasn't hard enough." He stopped and choked and Dumbledore held a plastic bottle of water to his lips which was imperiously waved away. "They had muggle weapons Albus - guns and grenades. We were no match for them. If you had been here, you might have organized us into some sort of order, but as it was there was chaos. It was over before we knew it."  
  
Alastor Moody's eyes closed and Hermione barely choked back a sob. Then they opened again and sharpened as they looked at Sirius. "You, Black, take over the aurors for me. They need a capable man heading them at a time like this. And remember, Constant Vigilance." Sirius gripped the older man's hand and nodded mutely. Finally Moody looked at Hermione. "Don't worry Miss Granger. Young Harry Potter is there to protect you. As long as the Phoenix is alive we have nothing to worry about. I'm very proud to die in his service." With that the blood spewed up in his mouth and his eyes closed, this time forever.   
  
Hermione buried her head on Sirius's shoulder and burst into tears. Sirius himself brushed a few errant tears from his eyes. Dumbledore just bent down and whispered, "Goodbye old friend. Requiescat in pace." He then straightened and looked at the other two. Hermione had never seen him this furious. He exuded a raw power, a strength that she had seen in Harry sometimes. "Pull yourselves together. We have to think calmly. These people are dead. There's nothing we can do for them. Unfortunately there isn't much we can do without them. They are the only people who could have helped us. They knew about Harry's position as the Phoenix and had all the necessary information. If we were to release the fact to the public along with the fact that he had been kidnapped we would have riots on our hands. We can't even appeal to the Ministry without proof which is something we don't have since the library with all our research has been burnt down. All the people who could vindicate our claim are dead. If we don't think of something soon, Harry Potter may not live to see this millennia through crisis." With that parting shot, Dumbledore swept through the doorway. Exchanging frightened glances, the other two followed him out. None of them saw the pale face of the young journalist whose invisibility cloak dropped from her limp fingers. None of them heard the whispered moan - "Oh Harry, oh Harry, please be alright."  
  
***********************  
  
While these events were going on in England, in France Harry found himself surprisingly well treated. Even though he hadn't seen a single person in two days, he had been given a large spacious room. His wounds had been seen to. He had been fed well, and new clothes had been laid out for him. It was unnerving because of the uncertainty. He wasn't sure of what was going to happen to him and his imagination ran wild. To keep himself occupied he concentrated on perfecting his animagus transformation. Soon the unicorn form was second nature to him, but the bird or whatever his other form was remained elusive. Despite this practice, time seemed to inch by. He wondered whether he would see the Circle again. Though he racked his brain, he wasn't able to place him. All he felt was a vague rush of familiarity.  
  
As these thoughts rushed through his head, he heard a brisk knock on the door followed by Gabrielle's voice, "Harry, may I come in?"   
  
"Come on in, Gabrielle." Said Harry softly. He wanted to investigate further into the pain he had heard in the girls voice the last time they had talked. The door swung open and Gabrielle walked in. She was dressed in floaty dark blue robes and looked better than he had ever seen her look before. She seated herself on a settee and looked unsmilingly at Harry who met her gaze with a studied amusement.   
  
"Harry, I want to tell you why I'm here."  
  
"You don't need to explain yourself, Gabrielle. You made a decision and I'm sure you had your reasons. I'm not going to judge you on that."  
  
Gabrielle shook her head. "You don't understand Harry. All my life, I've been second best. Everything comes so easily to Fleur. She has fame, beauty, people who love her very much. She was the only one I had, Harry, and when she left me to teach in Hogwarts, I was desolate. I was in Beauxbaton where everyone hated me because of my Veela blood. There were constant comparisons with Fleur. I was a good student, a very good student but people would say - Fleur was in the Triwizard tournament, Fleur was so well behaved, Fleur was such an obedient child, Fleur is doing so well for herself, Fleur has such a fine husband and her daughter is so sweet. It was never-ending. That was when I started to study the Dark arts. Soon I knew more than my DADA teacher. I had found my metier. That was when I was asked to join the Death Eaters. I agreed because it was finally something I was doing in which my sister couldn't overshadow me. I never knew that I'd rise to such heights. Of course I couldn't tell anyone, not even Fleur."  
  
Harry listened intently and then nodded. "So that's why you joined the Death Eaters on the Circle's behest."  
  
Gabrielle's violet eyes shot up to meet his emerald ones. "No Harry, I joined the Death Eaters as a spy for the French Government at the behest of my cousin. You must have met him - Pierre Cheval, the French Minister of Magic."   
  
  
Thanks go to:  
Miriam of course, I mean what more can I say to thank you.  
  
Sarah: Hope you like this chapter too.  
  
Gwen De Paulo: Thank you so much  
  
Magisch Machen: Thanks for the review. I'm sorry my chapters are so short, but I have a really small concentration span  
  
Jorj Car'Das: Thank you and we'll see about the romance. 


	21. The Plans

CHAPTER 20  
  
Disc: Sue me if you really want to. All I own is a pair of old socks and copies of all four Harry Potter books.  
  
Sirius flung himself down on his chair with a deep sigh. "A dead end, my friends. The necessary conditions for the Analogum will not come around for a long, long time. It seems that the night that the goddamned spell was cast, there was a lunar eclipse or something to that effect and it's almost impossible to replicate. It seems that this bastard, the Circle, knew about the Analogum spell, and went all out to make it really tough. So we're stuck, and Harry is in a shit load of danger."   
  
Arabella ran a hand through her hair. "Snuffles, it's worse than you can possibly imagine. Now that the Coven is disbanded, there are no real leaders in this battle except Harry and Dumbledore, and Dumbledore is an old man. There is no telling how long he'll live. We have to get Harry out somehow."  
  
Ron nodded. "We know that, Bella. Our problem is how!"   
  
Draco stepped forward. "May I make a suggestion?"  
  
Ron shot him an unfriendly glance, but refrained from comment. Snape nodded encouragingly and Draco continued, "Look, I don't like Potter. I never have. But it's obvious, even to me, that he's important to this fight. He's a natural leader. He's handsome, he's kind, and he's sensitive. People love him and they want to do things for him. Even a hardboiled, cynical, Slytherin sonofabitch like me can see that. So I'll do all I can to help. I have an idea, but I'm not sure it'll work. Will you hear me out?"  
  
Ron's hard face softened somewhat, and Arabella calmly said, "I think I can speak for all of us here when I say that we don't doubt your motives, Draco. What's the plan?"  
  
"Well, I think our only hope is to infiltrate the Circle's stronghold and attack from within rather than from without. I don't think anyone has cottoned on to the act that I'm a spy. If I pretend I'm visiting France purely because I want in on the action against Potter, it should be quite believable. Let me find out where he is, what kind of shape he's in and let me get the feel of the land. Then attack would be simpler."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, Malfoy." She said flatly. "I can't let even you go in there alone on a mission like this. It's too dangerous and we can't take wild risks. There has to be another idea."  
  
Malfoy peered suspiciously at her, but his eyes fell on seeing the concern reflected on her face. Sirius however looked thoughtful. "I don't know, Herm. It seems like a good idea. And Harry must come first. I say we let him go. But let's be democratic. Let's put it to vote. All in favor of Malfoy going in say aye."  
  
"Aye." Said Ron.  
  
"Aye." murmured Blaise.  
  
A very muffled "Aye" came from Arabella who had chosen just that minute to bite into a cream bun.  
  
Snape bit his lip. "I don't know. I must agree with Miss Granger. It is a huge risk. But I suppose Potter is our first priority. So, Aye it is."  
  
"Very well," said Sirius. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but the ayes have it. Draco you have the go ahead. Get them."  
  
Hermione frowned. "At least send someone else with him. He can't go alone. He needs at least one back up. Can't someone go along?"  
  
"I will." Came a voice from the door. The group turned as of a single accord and gaped at the tall dark figure that stood silhouetted against the door. For a minute there was complete silence and then Hermione threw herself at him, gasping out "Viktor!"  
  
***********************  
  
Raymond Ernest was engrossed in a copy of Citizen Kane when a staccato knock on the door drew him out of his reverie. He reluctantly got up and went to the door. He lived alone and didn't even allow himself the luxury of servants - human or elvish. As he opened the door on the stormy evening, he was glad, once more, of the privacy that the house gave him. On his doorstep, looking bedraggled and distraught, stood his star reporter. He glanced sharply into her eyes, which were wide with shock, and pulled her in after him. He closed the door and led the unresisting girl to the library where he gently ensconced her in a comfortable armchair. Then in a manner quite different from his usual terse style, he asked her, "What happened Ginny?"  
  
The young reporter looked back at him and replied falteringly, "Dead. All dead."  
  
Raymond stroked her wet hair softly and spoke to her as if she were a small child. "Come on, Gin, tell Ray. What did you see?" But the girl just closed her eyes and shivered, and the tears flowed down her cheeks and soundless sobs wracked her slim frame.  
  
Raymond Ernest had not been the finest human-interest writer for the Daily Prophet in a century for nothing. He had a natural empathy which he normally reserved for his articles. Now he called upon it to help the girl he had come to consider as his protégé in many ways. He sat down facing her, and in his most persuasive voice he said, "Ginny, you have to tell me what happened in Atlantis. If we are to help Dumbledore, we have to know everything that's been happening. Pull yourself together, child." Then he played a calculated stroke, "For Harry."  
  
He knew he had done the right thing. The sobs shuddered to a stop and the amber eyes lifted to his own were no longer frenzied. "I'm sorry Ray, I shouldn't have acted like such a baby. It's just that in all my years as a journalist I've never seen such senseless carnage. And Harry…" here her voice choked.  
  
"What's happened to Harry, Virginia?" the question was curtly snapped at her. She bit her lip, but continued, "Dumbledore was there, in the Atlantis building. Hermione and Sirius Black were with him. He said Harry had been kidnapped, that Harry's life was in danger. He also called Harry by a name. Something rather unusual! Moody also said it before he died. I think they called Harry 'The Phoenix' or something like that. They also talked about…" she found that Ernest was no longer listening to her and fell silent.   
  
Ernest stared into the fire for a long minute, his lips pursed into a soundless whistle. Then he inhaled sharply and spoke in a half whisper, almost to himself, "Harry Potter, the Phoenix! Who would have thought it?" In a louder voice he said, "Virginia, did they mention who they suspected of masterminding the kidnapping?" Ginny knitted her brows in concentration, and then shook her head.  
  
"They didn't mention the leaders, but Moody did say that the Death Eaters who attacked the Atlantis were led by Roger McNair and Amy Lestrange. I don't know if that's any help…"   
  
Ernest cut her off sharply, "It is, thank you, Virginia. Now I want you to go home and stay there. I believe your parents have gone on some diplomatic mission, so go stay with one of your brothers. Owl me your article on the Atlantis incident, but keep it strictly descriptive. I don't want you to tell anybody about Harry's kidnapping. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" Ginny nodded dumbly and finally Ernest allowed himself to relax into a smile. "And Ginny, try to calm down. Nothing is going to happen to Harry Potter. I'm pretty sure of that."  
  
**********************  
  
Angelina Weasely looked up with a smile at Jacqueline Murray, as she stormed into her office. "Hi Jackie, how can I help you?"  
  
The auburn haired woman flung herself into a seat and glared at the younger woman across the desk. "Angelina, I am furious. No I'm more than furious, I'm enraged. How do you stay married to a Quidditch Player? If you ask me, the whole damn lot should be stuffed into gunny bags and tossed into the Thames. The world would be a kinder, saner place. Or perhaps we could stand them shoulder-to-shoulder and see how many we could kill with a single Avada Kedavra spell. Or perhaps we could hang them upside down by their intestines and get magic ravens to peck their eyes out. Wouldn't that be just retribution?"  
  
Angelina listened to this diatribe with a twinkle in her eyes. When Jackie was through, she calmly interjected, "Jackie, how can I help you?"   
  
The captain of the Montrose Magpies looked a little discomfited. "Sorry for the temper tantrum, Angelina. But right now I'm under a lot of stress. You know the play offs will be starting any day and we've already started rigorous practices. Unfortunately practices are of very little use with our best player missing."  
  
Angelina looked surprised, "You mean Harry!"  
  
"Of course, I mean Harry. The last time I saw him was in France. He told me he was staying on a few days. Now he seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. We need him to win the Quidditch cup, and he's nowhere to be found."  
  
"So what do you want me to do?"  
  
"Well as the second in command in the Ministry of Magical Games, I want you to pull rank, and find that sonofabitch for me. Then I can tear him to pieces. Would you try?"  
  
Angelina gave a cautious nod. "I can't make any promises, but yes I'll try."  
  
Jackie flashed her a brilliant smile. "Thanks Angelina, I owe you. I'll be in touch." She strode out with the lithe, athletic stride of the natural flier and Angelina looked thoughtfully at her retreating figure.   
  
  
Thanks go to:  
Miriam: My most loyal reviewer. If it wasn't for you I'd have given up on this damn mess a long time ago.  
  
Magicalmischiefmaker: Glad you enjoyed it. hope you like this one too.  
  
Moselle: Sorry, but I just didn't feel like writing abotu Gabrielle in this chapter. Keeping everyone on their toes  
  
Sarah: Thank you. About Ginny, it's because she's a conscientous journalist and her first duty is towards the paper. About Gabrielle, well wait and watch. 


	22. The Arrival

CHAPTER 21  
  
"Ginny, what are you doing here?" asked Fred Weasely, his normally cheerful face screwed into an anxious expression. "Are Mom and Dad ok? Is it Percy or Ron or Charlie? I know George and Bill are ok, so it can't be them. Come in. Angelina isn't home yet, but she should be back any minute." He pulled his sister into the sitting room, sat her down in a chair, pushed a cup of coffee in her hand and looked at her quizzically. "So how's tricks, little sister?"  
  
Ginny reluctantly broke into a smile. The twins had always been able to make her laugh. "Everyone is fine, Fred. Ray told me that I was working too hard and that I should take a vacation. So here I am, vacationing."   
  
Fred snorted. "You expect me to believe that Raymond Ernest, the human machine, actually told you to take a break. Yeah, that and I'm a Russian ballet dancer. Spill it, little sis. You don't look that strained or that pale just because you've stayed up a few hours working."  
  
Ginny shook her head. "Seriously, Fred. I'm here to unwind. Where better? George and you can try some of the tricks I know you still invent on me, and Angelina and Katie can take me shopping. All in all I can't think of anywhere I'd rather vacation."  
  
Fred looked suspiciously at his younger sister, but she met his glance with an ingenuous look of her own and he turned away with a shake of his head. The two were catching up on Weasely family gossip when they heard the door slam and a second later Angelina entered the room, shaking her dark waves free from the tight bun she normally wore.   
  
"Ginny, my dear, how are you?" asked the older woman, hugging her sister-in-law. Ginny returned the hug with alacrity. Ginny was fonder of Angelina than she was of Katie, Penelope or Diana (Charlie's wife). She admired Angelina's passion for work, her ambition and her undeniable good looks. Most of all, however, she liked Angelina because she understood and loved Fred and gave him the space he needed.  
  
"So, how was work, Darling?" asked Fred, looking proudly at his successful wife. Angelina flung herself down on the couch, and rubbed her eyes vigorously.   
  
"It was tiring. No, let me rephrase that. It was unbelievably tiring. First I spent this awful morning in a meeting with James Allison, the Australian head of Magical Sports trying to tell him that you couldn't play Quidditch without Bludgers. I know they're dangerous, but they're a part of the game. Then I had a meeting with the press telling them that there was going to be no Quodpot World Cup. Sorry to insult your Skeptic Alley friends, Ginny, but the press is really a pain. Anyway to continue, the most curious part of my day was when Jackie Murray showed up at my office."  
  
Fred smiled. "What did Jackie have to say?"  
  
Angelina frowned. "It was unnerving, Fred. She said that Harry had disappeared and that she couldn't track him down in France. She asked me to trace him. Do you have any idea where he might be?"  
  
Fred shrugged. "I'll be damned if I know. But Ron is down in France right now and so is Hermione. Perhaps they've gone off for a hike or something."  
  
Angelina shook her head vigorously. "Harry isn't that irresponsible, neither is Hermione. If it had just been that scatterbrain brother of yours, I could believe it, but not the other two. Did he tell you anything before he left?"  
  
Fred narrowed his eyes in concentration. "Well, I met him thrice before he left for France. Once of course was at the party, where he was too busy socializing to talk. Then I met him at the Quidditch Convention. And then at Ron's place before he went. I can't recall him mentioning anything. I really can't recall… wait, I did meet him one other time. George and I both did. It was at the practice. He came down. He told us something about Dumbledore recruiting him to fight some Death Eaters. They were regrouping, I think under some brilliant new leader, whose identity is totally secret. He mentioned that he was going to go undercover to find out who was behind this. Ginny, what is it?"  
  
Ginny jumped to her feet. "Guys, I have to go. I just remembered I have to tell Ray something really important. Don't wait up for me. I'll be back late."  
  
Fred frowned. "I thought you were on vacation. What could be that important?"  
  
Ginny wrung her hands. "I am, but this is urgent. Ray would kill me if I didn't tell him. You know what a martinet he can be."  
  
"Can't you owl him?"   
  
"No, he's afraid someone may tap the owls. Gotta go. See you guys later." With that Ginny ran out.  
  
"There's something very suspicious going on here, Fred." Said Angelina  
  
"And I, my dear wife, intend to find out what it is." Replied Fred, setting his jaw pugnaciously.   
  
***********************  
  
"Viktor, what are you doing here?" asked Hermione, wrapping her arms around his waist. "And what do you mean, you will?"  
  
Viktor gently disentangled himself and looked at her with a smile. "My dear Hermione, I flew in today thanks to an urgent owl from Professor Snape and I will go with Draco to get Harry."  
  
Hermione gasped. "But you aren't a Death Eater, are you?"  
  
Snape interpolated. "I think I should explain this. Viktor was one of Durmstrangs more brilliant students and since we had a reputation for Dark Arts, the Bulgarian Government thought that he would make an excellent spy. His Quidditch was an excuse for his traveling, like it was for Harry. Viktor has been our source for some of the most important information we have received. When Draco first approached me with his idea, I thought, as Miss Granger did, that it was dangerous. While racking my brain to find someone who could accompany Draco, I realized that the perfect candidate would be Viktor. Don't you agree?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded dubiously, but Hermione cut in furiously, "You can't send Viktor, it's too dangerous."  
  
Sirius was about to speak, but Viktor forestalled him. He went to his girlfriend and rested his hands on her shoulder, "Hermione, my dear, I have to do this. Don't you see, if I don't, it may mean the end of the resistance?  
  
Hermione turned away, without a word, and there was silence in the room, everyone there respecting the tears that shone in her eyes. Just then Ron walked in his eyes ablaze, "I just got an owl from Harry."  
  
  
Well, I finally got this posted(whew). A bad appendicitis do kept me from doing anything, but feeling sorry for myself. Here I'd like to thank my kid sister(Take a bow brat). And check out her story, HP and the Isle of Remembrance, under my nick.   
  
Thanks go to:  
Miriam of course: How could I put up a chapter without effusively thanking my most loyal and helpful reviewer.  
  
Moselle: More Gabrielle in the next chap. I promise.  
  
Hey: You don't write do you? If you did, you'd know how it feels to get a review. Thanks for reviewing anyway. 


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